


Promises Made

by W0rldofmy0wn



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Bits of eventual WynDoc and WynDolls, Canon Compliant, Childhood Trauma, Deep-dive into Wynonna and Waverly's relationship, Exploring the Earp sisters' childhood, Gen, More characters and tags to come, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Wynonna Earp, Wyncedes bromance, eventual wayhaught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-08-17 02:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 120,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16507442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/W0rldofmy0wn/pseuds/W0rldofmy0wn
Summary: Soft brown eyes stare up at her and something fierce slams into Wynonna’s chest, stealing all her breath away. In that moment, that one singular second, she suddenly understands why she was born. Willa is the Earp heir, the person who will free them from the curse that has plagued their family for generations, but Wynonna now knows that her purpose is just as important, maybe even more so.Or, a look into the relationship between Wynonna and Waverly Earp, starting from Waverly’s birth up through the season three finale.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be an exploration of the bond between Wynonna and Waverly. I'm writing it simply because I love the relationship between these two and the show has left me with too many questions about how their bond developed through their very traumatic childhoods, so I decided to answer them for myself. It will mostly center around Wynonna, but there will be chapters focused on Waverly as well. Enjoy!

“That’s a dumb name.”  
  
At five-years-old, Wynonna Earp is sure of herself, stubborn, and has never once been afraid to voice her opinion. In this moment her mama’s brow twitches, annoyance quickly followed by amusement flashing across her face, and for a split second Wynonna wonders if Willa’s right, she should really start thinking more carefully before she speaks. The next second the thought is gone as her mother groans, all but falling back onto the couch, the protruding sphere that has been her stomach for the last month or so making the move less than graceful. Not that Wynonna cares.  
  
“Oh yeah? You got a better one, little girl?” Mama’s lips twitch up as she stares Wynonna down before tapping the spot next to her on the couch.  
  
It’s all the invitation she needs. Wynonna scrambles up from her spot on the floor, quickly throwing herself at the couch, a mess of arms and legs that are careful in their wild movements at least not to bump her mama. When Wynonna finally settles beside her, Mama’s arm falls around the little girl’s shoulders and the five-year-old snuggles into her side.  
  
At the kitchen table Wynonna can hear the scratching sound of Willa’s pencil against paper as she does her homework. She knows she should probably be doing her homework too, but she’d lied earlier when Mama asked if she had any. Homework is boring, definitely not as fun as the game she’d been playing a moment ago and not nearly as nice as burrowing into her mother’s side and laying a hand on her big belly. Beneath her palm Wynonna feels a shift and knows the baby thinks the name is stupid too. They’re on the same page with that then, at least.  
  
“I dunno, but that name’s just dumb. _Welcome_. She’s a baby Mama, not a doormat,” she informs her, rolling her eyes at the name her mother has just suggested. Who names a baby _Welcome_ anyway? This kid is already lucky she’s here, to save her from being stuck with _that_ forever. Gross.  
  
“I think it’s a pretty name,” Mama replies, tilting her head back. Her eyes close as her head rests against the back of the couch, and Wynonna looks up at her sharply. Her mother has been getting tired lately, even she can see that, and Wynonna has decided it’s her job to make sure she takes care of herself. The sun hasn’t even set yet, orange light still filtering through the windows behind them, and Wynonna knows Mama will need to start making dinner soon. Daddy will be home from work before too long and he always expects dinner on the table waiting for him when he gets there. The nights when it’s not there’s always shouting, sometimes worse, and Wynonna ends up huddled up against Willa in her big sister’s bed as she tries to pretend she can’t hear any of it. Tonight won’t be one of those nights, Wynonna’s gonna make sure of it.  
  
“But it’s not a _baby’s_ name, Mama,” she insists, pressing against her mother’s shoulder with a little more pressure while her other hand remains gentle against the bump of her belly. The added pressure gets Mama to open her eyes and look back at her, and Wynonna grins before turning towards the kitchen. “Right Willa?”  
  
“Mm,” her big sister and best friend grunts, “You’re right, it’s not welcome.”  
  
Wynonna turns back to her mother to give her a triumphant grin and misses the look her sister and mother share, Willa’s eyes boring into her and Mama’s lips pursed.  
  
When she looks back down at Wynonna pressed against her still, Mama’s expression softens ever so slightly. “Alright then,” she says, “if you’re so smart what’ll we name her?” She reaches out, tucks a strand of darkening blonde hair back behind her youngest daughter’s ear as Wynonna’s eyes drop to her stomach.  
  
It’s a big responsibility, what Mama’s asking her. Whatever she comes up with, this kid is going to have to live with. She’s still not even sure how she feels about her own name, she’s not sure she has any right to come up with someone else’s. Maybe this is a job for her big sister. After all, she’s always thought Willa has the prettier name of the two. _Willa_. _Wynonna_. _Willa_ is easy to say, easy to spell, definitely the better name of the two, just like Willa is the better of the sisters. The older Earp daughter has a purpose, has had a purpose from the second she was born, has always been loved by everyone around her. Wynonna’s always been the more difficult of the two, starting with the spelling of her name and ending with her attitude. “A fiery personality” Mama has always called it and she’s always kind of liked that, but what Mama’s asking right now deserves something softer than fire.  
  
But Willa’s still at the table, diligently working on her homework and very much not giving any suggestions for the crisis Wynonna suddenly finds herself facing, so she guesses it’s come down to her. She bites her bottom lip, chewing it lightly as she wracks her brain to come up with something that won’t make this baby hate her once its born and knows she’s the one who named it.  
  
They sit in silence for a few minutes, only the scratching of Willa’s pencil and the ticking of the clock above the mantle breaking it as Mama watches her and Wynonna stares at the belly still beneath her palm. It’s warm and she feels movement again, as though her baby sister is trying to get her to hurry up and name her already, and Wynonna smiles softly as the name comes to her.  
  
“Waverly,” she says softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Her name should be Waverly.”  
  
As though the baby heard, there’s an especially hard kick beneath her palm and her mother chuckles before her own hand comes to rest on top of Wynonna’s.  
  
“I think she likes it,” she admits, shaking her head. “Waverly it is then.”  
  
Wynonna leans closer to her mother’s stomach, her other hand moving to rub lightly at the swell, her face now barely an inch away. “My baby sister. Waverly.”

***

It’s four days before Wynonna’s sixth birthday and for the first time ever Mama isn’t the one waiting for them after school. Instead she and Willa meet Curtis in the parking lot, their uncle shifting from one foot to the other next to his wife’s old Ford pickup, its red paint as rusted and rundown as usual. Mama often teases Gus about her truck, saying she loves it more than Curtis, and Gus always shrugs and reminds Mama Curtis has his tomatoes to keep him warm, what does he care? Wynonna doesn’t really understand any of it, but it’s always nice to see the truck - and her aunt and uncle. Though when she’s expecting to see her mother, she can’t help but be a little confused.  
  
“Curtis,” Willa says for her as Wynonna glances around the parking lot, “where’s Mama?”  
  
“She’s fine,” he tells them, stepping away from the truck as he opens the passenger-side door for them. “She called me. She went into labor, so sent me here to pick you up.”  
  
“The baby’s coming?” Wynonna gasps, eyes going wide. Excitement causes her to start jumping up and down even as she pulls herself into the truck, Curtis’s hand catching her under her armpit to help haul her inside. It’s not her fault she’s still a little too short to easily get in, but the boost that would normally wound her pride is entirely ignored as she slides into the seat, still bouncing. “Are we going to see her in the hospital?”  
  
“Calm down, Wynonna,” Willa grunts as she pulls herself up next to her little sister, not needing any help. She lightly shoves the other girl over to give herself more room, but Wynonna is too distracted waiting for her uncle’s answer to bother to push back.  
  
“No, we’re gonna go wait for her at the homestead,” Curtis tells them, pushing the passenger door closed and then rounding the front of the truck. Wynonna frowns and watches him the whole way, too excited to see her mother and baby sister to wait. When her uncle climbs into the driver’s seat, he can clearly see her disappointment and gives her a little grin as he starts the car. “Don’t worry Wynonna, your mama will be home before you know it, and she’ll have the baby with her.”  
  
Wynonna lets out a loud sigh and folds her arms across her front, leaning dejectedly back against the seat. Willa lets out a little snort, giving her a look and shaking her head, and Wynonna can’t understand why she isn’t disappointed too. This is their baby sister they’re talking about, how can she be so calm?  
  
Curtis shifts the truck into reverse to pull out of the parking lot, and Wynonna’s foot bounces against her seat repeatedly, unable to hold still. 

***

“Before you know it” turns out to be almost four hours and Wynonna really isn’t sure how much longer she can hold it together. Willa’s been patiently waiting, getting her homework done, helping Curtis with dinner, and is now calmly reading beside her on the couch, and Wynonna doesn’t understand any of it. She’s been glancing back and forth between the clock on the mantle and the door pretty much since they got home and although she can’t yet actually tell time, she knows it’s been forever because she keeps asking Curtis how long they’ve been waiting. He’s probably getting annoyed now, but she can’t really help herself. As her uncle moves around in the kitchen, cleaning up from dinner, her eyes flicker from the clock to the door for probably the zillionth time.  
  
“Hold still, Nonna,” Willa grumbles suddenly, shooting a glare at her little sister without really looking up from the book in her lap. One foot bumps into her thigh in a light kick, and Wynonna frowns. She hadn’t noticed she’d been wiggling around impatiently and forces herself to stop, but looks over at her big sister.  
  
“How come you’re so calm?” she asks, giving the older girl a look. “Aren’t you excited to meet our little sister?”  
  
“I already have a little sister, remember?” she answers, eyes falling back to the pages of her book while a grin tugs at the corners of her mouth. Without looking, Willa leans over, nudging Wynonna lightly with her shoulder and the younger girl rolls her eyes as she fights back a smile.  
  
“Yeah but I don’t.” Already distracted again, Wynonna glances back to the door, her heartbeat speeding up just a little in her chest.  
  
She hasn’t admitted it out loud yet, but she’s a little nervous about being a big sister. What if she sucks at it? Willa’s already about the best big sister someone could have - even if she does bug Wynonna every now and then - how can she compete with that? It’s a question she’s asked herself a lot lately, and not one she has an answer to yet.  
  
“You’re gonna wish you still didn’t,” Willa tells her, her grin growing. Again her eyes flick over to Wynonna, a teasing glint in them. “Little sisters are the worst.”  
  
Wynonna shoves Willa, because really, how else is she supposed to respond to that? Willa laughs and shoves her back, her book slipping out of her lap and landing on the floor, and then the two fall into their usual shoving contest, both of them soon laughing. Curtis calls a warning from the kitchen, something about being careful and not getting hurt, but neither of them really listen to him. They wrestle all the time, and though Willa has always won, Wynonna is determined to someday beat her. This probably won’t be that day, but she sure is gonna try.  
  
The shoving match only ends when the front door opens. Wynonna freezes, eyes going wide, and completely forgets about her big sister next to her. She watches as Daddy steps into the house, Mama following after him with a bundle of something in her arms. Wynonna’s pretty sure she knows what’s in that bundle and her eyes are suddenly glued to it, her heart starting to race in her chest.  
  
Daddy’s eyes scan the room, passing over Curtis coming in from the kitchen and falling on the two girls now staring from the couch. He walks up behind it and lays a hand on Willa’s shoulder and Wynonna immediately gets a whiff of whiskey from him, something she’s pretty sure will always remind her of their daddy.  
  
“Come on,” he says to Willa, gripping her shoulder, “We’re gonna go practice your shooting. Need to work on your aim.” He lets go and steps back, already moving back towards the door, probably heading to the barn to get the gun Willa always practices with when Daddy doesn’t want to give her Peacemaker. That’s strapped to his side as always, and for just a second Wynonna’s gaze falls to it. That gun holds a power over all of them, she can feel it, and it always makes her nervous. Not that she’s ever said anything because that would probably just make Daddy mad, but she’s always been glad Willa’s the one who’ll have to wear it someday and not her.  
  
Willa slides off the couch, murmuring a quiet, “Yes Daddy,” and follows behind him, barely even glancing at their mother as she passes her, but Wynonna’s attention turns right back to the bundle in her arms the second she notices it again.  
  
Willa and Daddy leave, the front door slamming shut behind them, and Wynonna stares at her mother. Mama looks tired, pale, her normally beautiful hair a little wild and sticking to her sweaty face, but a content smile curls her lips up. She flashes that smile at Curtis as he walks towards her, tipping his head at her politely and then taking a second to stare down at the bundle in her arms. Wynonna still can’t see anything more than blankets, but it is clear from the way Curtis’s face lights up, a look in his eyes she doesn’t think she’s ever seen before taking over, that there’s something about the new baby that is special. It makes her insides twist, nerves suddenly making her almost sick, and she can feel her palms start sweating. Her uncle looks down at the baby for another few seconds and then nods, smiles once to her mother before kissing her lightly on the cheek, and lets himself out.  
  
Suddenly Wynonna is alone with just her Mama and the thing in her arms and the excitement she’d been feeling all afternoon shifts instantly into nerves bouncing around in her tummy. She doesn’t know if she wants to run and hide or bound over to her mother so she remains frozen on the couch, just staring.  
  
Mama must see the sudden fear growing in her eyes because she smiles, a tired, worn smile, but a smile nonetheless. Slowly, moving as though she’s aged thirty years in the last few hours, she makes her way into the living room, her arms gently bouncing the bundle inside them. The closer she gets the more Wynonna can hear it, the little whimpers and coos emanating from the blankets in her arms, and without thinking about it Wynonna’s bottom lip is between her teeth, biting down on it harder than she means to. Mama stops just in front of her and now she can just make out the little tuft of light hair that sticks out over the edge of the blanket. The whole bundle shifts, the little thing inside moving, and Wynonna’s breath catches in her lungs.  
  
“Wynonna, would you like to meet your little sister?” Mama asks, and panic begins to wash over her. This is it, there’s no turning back, the second she sees the baby it’s real and then what can she do? Who decided she was ready to be a big sister, because all at once it seems like the kind of responsibility she could never be worthy of. But the bundle is right there, Mama is already leaning down to place the baby in her lap, so all Wynonna can do is gulp and put her arms out, trying not to wince as the weight of this responsibility settles for the first time against her chest. She hesitates for just a second, looking up at her mother with what she’s sure is panic in her expression, and then she takes a deep breath and looks down.  
  
The blanket Mama’s wrapped her in is dark gray and probably one of the softest things Wynonna’s ever felt, but she couldn’t pay any less attention to it in this moment if she tried. Wrapped inside the blanket is the pinkest thing she’s ever seen. The baby’s eyes are closed, her face is scrunched up and her head is moving a little as though she’s trying to get a sense of where she is without being able to see. The little tuft of hair she’d seen moments ago looks suddenly darker against the pink of her skin and Wynonna wonders if she’ll always be this pink. She’s always been pretty indifferent to the color but in this moment she knows she’ll never see anything as beautiful or soft again and without warning tears are burning at the corners of her eyes. She doesn’t know why and tries to blink them back, her vision getting a little blurry which is just unacceptable because it means she can’t see every detail of her baby sister so she bites her lip harder to help clear them away.  
  
The cushion beside her dips as her mother sits down, and then a hand enters Wynonna’s periphery as it gently resettles the blanket from where it had begun to slide off of the baby. The little thing in Wynonna’s arms shifts again and she holds her tighter, terrified of the baby rolling off of her lap and falling. The thought of anything bad happening to her baby sister stops her heart, and Wynonna changes her grip, leaning further back into the couch and pulling the baby with her.  
  
“Wynonna, this is our baby girl. This is our Waverly,” Mama murmurs, staring at the baby from beside her. If she looked over, Wynonna would see the love dancing across her face, etched into every crease and wrinkle, but beneath it she would also see the worry hidden just beneath the surface. She doesn’t look over though, couldn’t turn her attention away from her baby sister even if she wanted to, so just hears the seriousness in her mother’s tone as she says, “It’s our job to protect her. Yours and mine.”  
  
“Waverly,” Wynonna whispers, so soft she isn’t even sure for a moment she said it out loud, but the second the word drops from her tongue her baby sister goes quiet. She hadn’t been crying, hadn’t even really been fussy, but the tiny coos she’d been making stop. As though it is the hardest task in the world, the baby’s eyelids flutter, starting to open and then close again, repeating a couple of times before they finally make it all the way up. Soft brown eyes stare up at her and something fierce slams into Wynonna’s chest, stealing all her breath away. In that moment, that one singular second, she suddenly understands why she was born. Willa is the Earp heir, the person who will free them from the curse that has plagued their family for generations, but Wynonna now knows that her purpose is just as important, maybe even more so.  
  
Filled with something she won’t ever be able to describe, Wynonna Earp leans over her baby sister until her lips just barely brush against her forehead. One of her hands pulls the blanket back from the baby’s face, and her finger skims over a soft cheek.  
  
“I’m gonna protect you, Waverly. Forever.”  
  
It’s a whispered promise, and one she knows in her very soul she would die to keep. She can’t be sure but she thinks Waverly’s lips curl into a smile, and a tiny hand reaches out, her fist closing tightly around Wynonna’s finger. It’s a strong grip, and one she doesn’t think she’ll ever want to pull away from.  
  
Maybe this big sister thing isn’t going to be so hard after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Sometimes Wynonna really hates being the middle sister.  
  
“But I wanna come too!”  
  
Waverly’s looking up at Wynonna with those big brown eyes that have controlled her ever since that first moment she looked into them. It’s been almost six years now and normally all Waverly needs to do is look at her with those eyes and Wynonna will do whatever it is she wants. Right now though Willa’s behind her and she can feel her older sister’s stare boring into the back of her head, and she knows exactly what Willa will say if she yet again gives in to Waverly’s pleas.  
  
“No Waves, you’re too little,” she tells her, managing to stand strong against the sheer force of her little sister’s stare. “Just go play with your toys or something.”  
  
“And stay out of the barn,” Willa adds, throwing the youngest Earp a warning look. Waverly meets it, returning the glare, and then turns around in a huff. She all but runs up the stairs and Wynonna is sure her bedroom door will slam in just a minute. Willa doesn’t wait to hear it, just smirks and then heads out the front door and Wynonna follows.  
  
The two don’t stop until they are in the barn, and Wynonna closes the door behind her, glancing around outside before it shuts to make sure no one followed them. The last thing they need is for an adult to catch them out there, but Daddy’s at work and Mama disappeared to the second floor of the homestead an hour ago and hasn’t been seen since. For just a second she wonders if Waverly will find her and rat them out, but she quickly pushes the thought away. Waverly might be a goody-goody but she’s no snitch. With the door shut, she turns around and finds Willa already sitting on the pile of hay in the corner, leaning against the boards of the barn. As Wynonna watches she reaches into the bag slung over her shoulder and pulls out the bottle of Daddy’s whiskey she swiped from the kitchen. Looking up she meets Wynonna’s stare and grins, lifting her brow as she gives the bottle a little shake.  
  
“Well?” she asks, “What are we waiting for?”  
  
Wynonna grins right back, lumbers over and plops down in the hay next to her as Willa takes the top off the bottle. As she does the younger Earp reaches into her sister’s bag and grabs the bag of gummy bears stuffed into the bottom, slipping them out as well. Willa shoots her a look as though she doesn’t know why Wynonna would want those when they have the whiskey, but Wynonna ignores it and pops one of the bears into her mouth. She chews on it while she watches Willa tip her head back and take a swig from the whiskey, quickly laughing when Willa’s nose scrunches up and she nearly spits the mouthful back out.  
  
“Daddy’ll kill ya if you waste his whiskey,” she points out, reaching out for the bottle. “He’d probably be more pissed about that than us stealing it.” Willa hands it over without a fight as she swallows it, but the look doesn’t go away. “That’s gross,” she says, shaking her head, “I don’t know why he drinks it.”  
  
Wynonna just shrugs and then takes her own swig, bigger than Willa’s had been because hey, she’s a little competitive, and it’s only her pride that keeps her from making a face too. The whiskey burns her throat as she swallows it and no matter how hard she tries she can’t hold in the couple of coughs it causes, her eyes starting to water. Willa just laughs at her, and Wynonna would give her a shove if she weren’t too focused on the burning in her throat. When Willa takes the bottle back she lets her. She doesn’t fully understand why they’re going to keep drinking this when it’s clear neither of them like it, but she knows without a doubt they will. Just having the bottle with them makes her feel older, and that’s kind of the point, right?  
  
“So Nonna, tell me about Pete,” Willa teases, grinning before she takes another drink and Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Sure, if you’re gonna tell me about Danny.” Willa wiggles her eyebrows and then launches into a story about how good Danny’s butt looked the other day in his new jeans and soon the two are laughing, passing the whiskey and gummy bears back and forth as they share in each other’s latest gossip. It’s the kind of moment Wynonna loves, a time where she can easily picture them in ten years, adults but the same, just two sisters drinking together and sharing their lives with each other. She knows it will always be like this between them, easy, relaxed, as though Willa doesn’t carry a burden on her shoulders every day. Wynonna knows these moments are what she’s here for. If she can just make Willa’s life easier in any way, that’s all that matters.  
  
Or, nearly all that matters. After an hour or so the barn door opens, and the only other thing that matters slowly shuffles into the room. Willa rolls her eyes and takes another sip from the bottle but Wynonna’s feeling too warm to care that Waverly ignored them and did exactly what they told her not to. The youngest Earp is smiling as she traipses towards them, something hidden behind her back.  
  
“Thought we told you to stay out of here,” Willa says, eyeing their sister, and Waverly ducks her head, now just peeking out at them from under her eyelashes.  
  
“I know you said I’m too little, but I brought my own drink.” She looks from Willa to Wynonna who just lifts an eyebrow up at her, and then in one hand pulls a can of grape soda out from where she’s been hiding it behind her back. In the other hand is Mr. Plumpkin, her favorite stuffed bear, and Wynonna snorts while Willa rolls her eyes again. Waverly seems to take the reactions as an invitation to join them and closes the last few feet between them, plopping down beside Wynonna, nearly in her big sister’s lap. Mr. Plumpkin gets a special seat on her other side, and Waverly messes with the bear for a few seconds before finally settling down.  
  
“Not a word of this to Mama or Daddy, got it? Or we’ll toss ya down the old well,” Wynonna tells her, giving her a look as she takes the bottle Willa’s handing to her. When they started it was more than half full, and now there’s only about a quarter left of the liquid in the bottle. She hopes Daddy was too drunk last night to remember how much he had otherwise he might find out even if Waverly can keep quiet, but at the moment her head’s a little too floaty to really care. The whiskey has warmed her insides and that warmth has flooded outwards, and she’s sure her cheeks must be red. She can see the same flush she feels mirrored on Willa’s face, but they’re both ignoring it. The more they have the better the whiskey tastes, and she’s now beginning to understand why Daddy is always drinking it.  
  
Waverly nods furiously, drawing an X over her heart with one finger. “Promise.”  
  
As though there’s been no interruption, Willa and Wynonna go back to talking about school and their friends and boys - but mostly boys - and Waverly just listens quietly, sipping on her grape soda and every now and then reaching over to shift Mr. Plumpkin’s position. She’s quiet enough that Wynonna could almost forget she was there if her little sister wasn’t leaning on her, and after a little while she begins to feel bad about leaving Waverly out.  
  
“So baby girl, any cute boys in your class?” she asks, turning to her sister and almost laughing when she sees the way Waverly’s nose scrunches up.  
  
“Boys are gross,” she says. “They’re always yelling and throwing stuff.” She gets a thoughtful look on her face for a second and then looks back at Wynonna. “Kinda like you, Nonna.” Wynonna shoots a glare at her, rightfully offended at the accusation because hello, she’s no boy, has Waverly seen her chest lately? It’s finally starting to get bigger and she’s hurt her little sister apparently hasn’t noticed. On her other side Willa cackles, clearly delighted, and Wynonna spins around to level her glare now at her older sister.  
  
“Don’t worry Waves, you won’t always feel that way,” the eldest Earp daughter tells the youngest. “Give it a few years, then you’ll think boys are pretty great. Though I don’t know if they ever get any quieter. And we all know Wynonna never will.”  
  
Beside her Waverly shakes her head, clearly not believing their sister, but Wynonna’s eyes have narrowed and are only looking at Willa. Her sister is still smirking, meeting the look while she downs another sip of whiskey, long past needing to make any faces, and Wynonna knows she needs to get her back for that dig. She knows exactly how to do it too and then her lips curl up and she leans back, an eyebrow arching as she asks Willa, “Truth or dare?”  
  
It’s a game the two have been playing together for most of their lives now, the challenge given from one to the other whenever they’re bored and now Willa just mirrors her expression, not hesitating before she answers, “Dare. What do ya got for me, little sis?”  
  
“I dare you to kiss Danny before school’s over tomorrow,” Wynonna shoots back instantly and Willa’s eyes widen for just a second before the cool confidence takes back over. Anyone else might have missed it, but Wynonna knows her sister better than anyone, and knows that just because Willa talks a lot about cute boys doesn’t mean she’s spent much time kissing them. She pretends to be all confident, but Wynonna knows she needs a little extra motivation to finally do it. From the way her lips purse together, it’s clear she’s found it.  
  
“Fine,” Willa replies, holding her head up higher, “I’ll do it.”  
  
“And someone’s gotta see it so I know you did it,” Wynonna adds, one corner of her mouth pulling up in a smug smirk. Willa glares at her but nods, and then says, “Truth or dare?”  
  
“Duh, dare, only wimps pick truth,” Wynonna tells her, rolling her eyes, and Willa looks around for a moment probably trying to come up with something. While she does Wynonna steals the bottle from her and takes another sip. They should really stop drinking it or Daddy will definitely notice how much is gone, but her brain is too fuzzy to really remember why she should care about that right then. Her arms are tingling and so are her toes, and it’s a funny sensation that she doesn’t really want to end.  
  
“I dare you to jump into the hay from up there,” Willa finally says, nodding from another pile of hay not too far from them to the loft above them. It’s high enough that she should probably give her answer more thought than she does, taking one quick glance and then grinning as she replies, “Not a problem.”  
  
“Wynonna, no!” Waverly gasps beside her, grabbing onto her arm just as she’s about to push herself up. She can hear the fear in her sister’s voice, sees it on her face as she adds, “It’s too high, you could get hurt!”  
  
“She’ll be fine, we’ve both done it before,” Willa informs their little sister as Wynonna pulls out of her grip, just flashing Waverly a smile as she lumbers over to the ladder at the side of the barn. The world suddenly dips around her as she moves, the whiskey rushing to her head all at once and she has to blink a few times to clear her vision. A tiny voice at the back of her mind whispers how bad of an idea this is as she starts to climb the ladder, but in true Earp fashion she pushes it back. She has never turned back on a challenge before and that isn’t about to change, even if the usually stable barn is feeling a little unstable the higher she climbs.  
  
Moments later she’s standing at the open edge of the loft and looking down, the ground feeling much farther away than she thinks it should. If it was just Waverly in here with her she might actually back away, might make what she knows is the smarter choice and head back to the ladder instead of contemplating this jump, but it isn’t just the two of them. Willa’s standing below, smirking up at her with her arms crossed and Wynonna will be damned if she’s gonna give her big sister the satisfaction of seeing her chicken out. She turns away from her sisters and focuses on the pile of hay waiting for her down below and tries to figure out exactly how far she’ll need to jump to land in it.  
  
“Wynonna,” Waverly whines, even more fear in her voice than before, “be careful.”  
  
“Don’t worry baby girl, it’ll be almost as good as flying,” she assures her and ignores Willa’s scoff and pretends she can’t see how tightly Waverly’s holding onto Mr. Plumpkins. With a deep breath and a final look at the hay pile, she closes her eyes and then she’s leaping forward.  
  
She can’t be in the air for more than a second before she comes crashing down to earth, and during that split second she’s absolutely certain she’s going to die. This has to be one of the dumbest things she’s ever done and she thinks she’s going to deserve however much pain she ends up in because her stupid pride couldn’t back down from the challenge, but then hay erupts around her. She lets out an “Ooph,” as she crashes into it, the scratchy stems digging into her skin where her shirt has risen up, but she’s laughing too hard to really notice it. Adrenaline is rushing through her and she loves it, briefly considers going again just to keep her blood pumping like this but quickly dismisses the idea. She was lucky, she knows that, and she doubts she could be that lucky again.  
  
Two bodies crash into the hay around her, Waverly nearly jumping on top of her in relief while Willa collapses just to her right.  
  
“You should’ve seen your face!” she exclaims between laughs, “I thought you were gonna piss yourself!”  
  
“Don’t do that again!” Waverly demands, her face burrowed into the crook of Wynonna’s shoulder. “You scared me!” The older girl can feel how much she’s shaking and realizes she’s shaking too.  
  
“It’s alright Wave, I’m fine,” she assures her, patting her back lightly. Waverly remains burrowed against her for a little while longer but Wynonna’s eventually able to coax her back out. When she does Waverly settles back on her free side, and the game of truth or dare continues, the two older girls tossing dares back and forth but none of them moving much farther than their new hay pile.  
  
“Waverly,” Willa eventually says, the first time either of the two have acknowledged the youngest sister in their game, “truth or dare?”  
  
“Um, dare,” Waverly answers, fidgeting a little with her answer. It’s obvious to Wynonna she’d rather pick truth or even just keep listening to them play, but clearly the littlest Earp heard what was said earlier about people who pick truth and doesn’t want to be labeled a wimp. Guilt tries to wash through her but the whiskey burning in her belly wipes it away.  
  
Willa thinks for a second, tapping the whiskey bottle she’s still holding against her thigh. Neither of them have had another sip of it since they relocated hay piles but at least it’s on hand in case they do want anymore. It’s the swish of the liquid inside the bottle that seems to give her an idea, and Willa’s grinning once again as she sits up and holds the bottle out to Waverly. “I dare you to try some. Have a sip.”  
  
Wynonna bolts up, glaring at Willa before Waverly can take the bottle.  
  
“No way,” she growls, shaking her head, “ain’t happening. What’re you thinking?” While she’s glaring at Willa, Waverly eyes the bottle still held out in front of her, chewing nervously on her lip. “I thought you said I was too little?”  
  
“Oh come on.” The eldest Earp daughter rolls her eyes at her sisters and nudges the bottle against Waverly’s shoulder. “It’s not a big deal, it’s just a little sip. It’s not like it’s gonna kill ya.”  
  
“Willa.” Wynonna’s tone is low, a warning, and her sister raises her eyebrows at her. “Relax Nonna, it’s not like I’m telling her to drink the rest of the bottle. It’s just one sip.” She still doesn’t like it, shifts uncomfortably as she tries to decide if she should grab the bottle before Waverly can but she doesn’t do it. Willa’s right, one sip isn’t bad, and it isn’t like she would ever actually make Waverly do something that would hurt her. Finally she leans back just a little, her posture still stiff but she nods, as though they were waiting for her approval.  
  
Maybe Waverly was, because it isn’t until she nods that she reaches out and accepts the bottle. She fiddles with the cap, eyeing the golden liquid inside the glass, but then her shoulders set and her brow furrows. Without pausing she takes the cap off and puts the bottle to her mouth, tilting her head back and letting a good swallow of the whiskey past her lips. She makes a face the second she tastes it, almost gagging, but Wynonna’s impressed when she manages to swallow it. She takes the bottle back before Waverly can drop it and then the littlest Earp is reaching for her soda to try to wash the whiskey down. If her expression is anything to go by, chasing the whiskey with artificial grape was a terrible idea.  
  
“Not bad, squirt,” Wynonna tells her, playfully messing with her hair. “What’d ya think?”  
  
Waverly makes a face and shakes her head, giving her sisters a look. “Ick.” They both laugh and after a moment even Waverly is smiling again, and the game continues.  
  
Only a few minutes later it’s Willa’s turn again to pick someone and as Wynonna expects she turns to her. “Dare,” she says before her big sister can even ask the question.  
  
The corners of Willa’s lips curl up and her head tilts to the side, thinking for a second. “I dare you to make Waverly’s soda come out her nose.”  
  
Wynonna laughs, grinning at the thought, while Waverly frowns. “I don’t like that one,” she says, but Wynonna’s already trying to think of her best jokes. “It’s alright baby girl, it’s just a little soda, keep drinking while I make you laugh.” Waverly looks dubiously at her but doesn’t say anything else, just goes back to drinking her soda.  
  
“Okay,” Wynonna begins, straightening up as though she were getting ready to put on some grand show. “What do you call a dinosaur that is sleeping? A dino-snore!”  
  
To her great disappointment, the corners of Waverly’s mouth twitch but she doesn’t laugh, and she can hear Willa snort behind her.  
  
“Wow Nonna, that was awful.”  
  
Wynonna’s brow sets, determination settling through her. “Okay, how about this: what did the right eye say to the left eye? Between us, something smells!”  
  
Wynonna goes through every joke she can think of, and while some of them do make Waverly laugh, it’s never enough to get soda to come out her nose. With each failed attempt she can practically feel Willa silently gloating behind her, and she begins to get more and more desperate as the time ticks by.  
  
“This is taking too long,” Willa finally says after the eleventh or twelfth failed joke. “If soda doesn’t come out her nose in the next minute, you lose the dare, Wynonna.”  
  
“No way,” she growls, hands curling into fists. “Wynonna Earp doesn’t lose.” She pauses as she tries to think of a joke that will have the desired effect, but only one thing comes to mind. When she can’t think of anything else, she just shrugs, saying, “Sorry ‘bout this baby girl.” Waverly’s head tilts to the side in confusion but before she can question what she’s sorry about Wynonna’s pushed her onto her back and is straddling her hips. She grabs Waverly’s soda with one hand and holds her down with the other, and when Waverly realizes what she’s about to do she begins to thrash around.  
  
“Wynonna, stop!” she cries, trying to wiggle out of her big sister’s hold but unfortunately for her she’s always been small for her age and Wynonna’s six years older. Her sister brings the can up to her mouth and pours a generous amount in, stopping any other cries, and before Waverly can spit it out Wynonna’s hand is covering her mouth while the other one plugs her nose. For a long moment she can’t breathe and she can’t swallow, a cold panic taking her over, and then the fingers pinching her nose let go and before she knows it fizzy soda is shooting out of it. The second it does the hand covering her mouth pulls away and then Wynonna jumps off of her with a victorious cry and Waverly is free to cough and splutter as air and grape soda flow to her lungs.  
  
While Waverly hacks, Willa is on the ground, laughing so hard she’s curled around her side. Wynonna looks between them, rubbing sheepishly at the back of her neck and then smirks at her older sister. “Did it. Told ya Wynonna Earp doesn’t lose.”  
  
“That was so funny!” Willa somehow manages to get out, her entire body still shaking with her laughter. “She was… and you just… the soda… her nose…!”  
  
“That wasn’t funny!” Waverly shouts, pushing herself up to her feet. Her little hands are clenched into fists and they’re shaking, and Wynonna bites the inside of her cheek when she sees how red her little sister’s face is. Her eyes are glassy with tears but they don’t fall, the little girl too furious to cry. “It was just mean and, and… and you’re both just mean!”  
  
“Waves, come on, it was just for the dare,” Wynonna tries, keeping her voice a little softer than usual. She knows that at most times her little sister is the sweetest person in the world, but when she gets angry, like really, really angry, she’s more than a little terrifying, even if she is barely more than half Wynonna’s size.  
  
The attempt to calm her fails, not that Wynonna really thought it would work, and Waverly shoots her glare directly at her.  
  
“I don’t care!” she yells, and Wynonna’s stomach drops when she notices Waverly’s chin quiver. “That wasn’t nice and you shouldn’ta done it!”  
  
Wynonna’s so focused on her little sister that she doesn’t notice her big sister has stopped laughing until it’s too late. She hears a rustling behind her and looks back to find Willa standing with a smirk on her lips and Mr. Plumpkins in her grip. Obviously the whiskey is clouding her mind because she digs into the bear’s right eye, her fingernail pushing past the fuzzy material and into the head and Wynonna winces as though the bear could actually feel it. Waverly has frozen behind her, staring at her bear in their sister’s grip.  
  
“We told you not to come in here, Waves, but you did,” Willa tells her, giving a little shrug. Wynonna doesn’t like the look in her eye or the way her finger continues to press just a little further into the bear’s head. “You shouldn’t call us mean when _you’re_ the one who crashed _our_ party.”  
  
“Willa,” Waverly whines, taking a step towards the older Earp girl, “give me back Mr. Plumpkins. Please.” Willa looks from Waverly to Wynonna, her smirk growing, and Wynonna sees something spark in her eyes. “You’re gonna have to catch me if you want him back, baby sis.”  
  
With that Willa turns around and takes off, darting out of the barn. She’s a little wobbly on her feet for the first few steps but she seems to find her balance by the time she makes it to the door and then she’s disappeared outside. Waverly runs after her, shouting as she goes but Wynonna knows even with the whiskey in Willa’s system their baby sister doesn’t have much chance of catching up. Willa’s the fastest of all of them just like she’s the strongest and the best shot, it’s what she needs to be as the Earp heir, but it means Mr. Plumpkins is likely to remain a hostage until she gets bored. Outside the barn Wynonna can hear Waverly shouting and Willa goading her right back, both of them loud enough that she’s sure Mama will notice before too long and Wynonna lets out a groan. She considers sinking back down to the hay and leaving her sisters to Willa’s game, but the thought has barely even crossed her mind before she’s sighing and making her way to the door. If she doesn’t step in she’s sure Mr. Plumpkins will be meeting a nasty end very soon which will only increase Waverly’s fury, not dilute it.  
  
Yeah, sometimes being the middle sister really truly sucks balls.


	3. Chapter 3

There are some days - though they are few - when Wynonna can almost forget what being an Earp means. There are even fewer days when Willa can forget, but those days when they both can ignore their last name and just have fun are easily Wynonna’s favorites. Something always happens to remind them why their last name is so special, usually in the form of a story from Daddy all about Wyatt Earp and the people he killed, but for at least a few stolen hours they can feel normal.  
  
Today is one of those days, and Wynonna’s cheeks actually hurt from smiling so wide for so long. Earlier that morning Mama had dropped her and Willa off at the McCready ranch and after a day of making snowmen and snow angels, of snowball fights and helping their aunt and uncle with the chores that come with their country lifestyle, Wynonna is sore and exhausted and just really, really happy. When Willa piles into Gus’s truck right behind her to make their way back to the homestead, Wynonna can see the same pure contentedness in the little smile tucked into the corners of her mouth, and that more than anything else makes her close her eyes and wish they could have days like this more often. Gus settles into the driver’s seat and starts up the truck, and Wynonna just lets the calm wash over her as they pull away from her aunt and uncle’s home.  
  
Not even a mile down the road, Wynonna feels Willa’s head rest against her own, and she holds in a smile. There’s a true sense of peace in the truck with the way they’re leaning against each other and Gus is humming along with the radio without really paying attention to it, and Wynonna thinks it’s long overdue. Daddy’s been riding Willa even harder than usual lately and she knows it has begun to take its toll on the Earp heir. It seems like every day he takes her out shooting, usually either late at night after he’s done working or early in the morning before it is even light outside, and all Wynonna has been able to do is watch and worry about the effects it’s had on her sister.  
  
Willa’s quieter than usual, more tired. Just last week Wynonna knows she fell asleep in class, and when the teacher gave her extra homework to make up for what she slept through she could do nothing but accept it. After all, it’s not like she could tell Mrs. Worthwright that she was only tired because Daddy had pulled her out of bed at four in the morning and made her shoot for two hours before she had to get ready for school. Wynonna considered going to the teacher’s house and throwing rocks at her windows in the middle of the night to see how well she does with no sleep, but when she accidentally mentioned her plan to Willa her sister had made her promise to just leave it alone. Feeling helpless and hating it, Wynonna has had no choice but to sit back and just watch as Willa’s exhaustion has grown.  
  
Apparently and unsurprisingly Mama has seen it too, and seems to be just as determined as Wynonna to give Willa at least a moment of peace. After a snowstorm had closed down school for the day, she’d told the two oldest Earp girls to grab their jackets and snow pants and hauled them out to Gus and Curtis’s first thing that morning. The fat snowflakes and chilly air brought with them a sense of freedom, and the sisters made sure to take every advantage of their few hours of bliss.  
  
That bliss is broken the moment they pull onto the Earp land in a way Wynonna never would have been able to see coming.  
  
“What in the hell?”  
  
Gus’s sharp voice pulls Wynonna’s focus back to the present and she realizes at some point during the drive back home she’d fallen asleep. Willa jerks up beside her, her spine straightening instantly and she knows her sister had been asleep too. Wynonna’s too busy blinking the sleep out of her eyes for a few seconds to really take in the sight before her, but when she does her eyes widen and her jaw drops open. In her chest, her heart starts racing.  
  
Daddy’s squad car is parked just in front of the house, which is strange enough; it’s only just started to get dark, he shouldn’t be home for another two hours at least. Stranger still, two other squad cars are parked in the space around it, and Wynonna can see Officer Nedley standing outside of one of them, his hat in one hand as he runs the other anxiously through his hair. Gus jerks the truck to a stop suddenly and Wynonna would have slid violently forward if the seatbelt hadn’t caught her and dug into her chest. Out the windshield she sees Officer Nedley look at the truck, shake his head, and immediately look away again and she frowns. She doesn’t know what’s going on but something in her gut tells her it sure as hell isn’t good.  
  
“Stay in the truck, girls,” Gus says without looking over at them. She leaves the key in the ignition and the truck on but opens her door, and Wynonna can hear it when her boots hit the snow. Her aunt still doesn’t look back as she slams the door closed behind her with one hand before she starts making her way towards an increasingly nervous Nedley. Wynonna glances at Willa for an idea of what to do and notices her sister is staring towards the house rather than the cruiser, so she too switches her line of vision. Daddy is standing on the porch looking towards Nedley and Gus, and something about the way he’s frowning makes Wynonna’s stomach drop. Without realizing she’s doing it, she grabs Willa’s hand and her big sister squeezes it right back.  
  
An unintelligible shout from Gus has them both turning back to their aunt at the same time and Wynonna’s eyes only go wider when she sees Nedley holding Gus back as her aunt shoves against him, her fists coming down against his shoulders. She’s yelling something they can’t quite make out and with the way she’s moving they only get flashes of her face, but from what Wynonna manages to see she’s suddenly furious and confused all at once.  
  
“Wynonna.” Willa’s voice surprises her and she actually jumps. She can’t tear her eyes off of her aunt fighting against Nedley, but from the edge of her vision she sees Willa’s brow crease. “In the back of Nedley’s cruiser, is that… is that Mama?”  
  
Her eyes are moving even before Willa finishes her sentence and she freezes suddenly, unable to believe what she’s seeing. They’re too far away and the inside of the cruiser is dark compared to the white world around it, but she’s pretty sure that’s Mama’s reddish brown hair she can just make out in the back of it. Her head starts to shake in disbelief and her mind is suddenly blank but whirling. She can’t even begin to piece together what’s going on around them or figure out what she’s supposed to do, but luckily unlike her Willa doesn’t freeze. Her sister is throwing the passenger door open a split second later and practically flying from the truck, and with their hands still connected Wynonna is dragged along behind her. It doesn’t take more than another second for the younger girl’s mind to catch up and then she’s racing beside Willa, their hands disconnecting as they go. There’s a thick scent of smoke in the air but it doesn’t register in Wynonna’s mind, all she can think about is her mother as they race forward. Nedley sees them coming and tries to stop them, but with Gus still shoving against him he doesn’t have any free hands and they rush past him.  
  
“Mama!” Wynonna cries as they all but slam against the side of the cruiser, her fist instantly coming down hard against the window. Willa grabs for the handle but the door doesn’t budge, and soon they are both pounding against the glass and screaming her name.  
  
Inside the car their mother doesn’t look at them, too busy rocking back and forth. Her hands are buried in her hair and from what Wynonna can see her eyes are closed, clenched tight. No matter how loudly they call her name or pound on the door, she doesn’t open them.  
  
A hand closes roughly around Wynonna’s forearm and then she’s being yanked away from the car. She doesn’t look to see who has grabbed her, just fights against the grip, desperately trying to get back to her mother. Willa struggles beside her but stops when she sees who has them while Wynonna just keeps fighting. They are dragged back to the porch, the freshly fallen snow making the journey even more difficult, but finally Daddy stops, yanking them both in front of him.  
  
“Enough!” he shouts as he grips them a little tighter, and Wynonna winces even as she keeps trying to see around him, unable to look away from the shape of her mother in the police car.  
  
“Daddy you’re hurting us!” Willa snaps, her voice thin but sharp, and to Wynonna’s surprise his grip actually loosens though he doesn’t let go entirely.  
  
“You both need to calm down,” he tells them firmly but calm is absolutely the last thing Wynonna’s feeling at the moment.  
  
“I’ll calm down when Mama’s out of that car. Hey Nedley, let my mama go or I’m gonna shove my foot up your ass!” Wynonna shouts, waving the fist of her free arm at the officer in question. She tries to get around Daddy but then he’s got ahold of both her shoulders and before she can do anything about it he’s shaking her hard enough that her heart leaps into her throat and her teeth snap together.  
  
“That’s enough,” he growls, giving her another shake but then Willa’s hands are on his wrists and she’s tearing at them and he lets go. Willa grabs Wynonna’s arm and yanks her behind her, glaring up at their father as she places herself between him and her little sister. Again Wynonna acts on instinct and grabs her big sister’s hand, and this time fully registers the tight grip of Willa’s fingers against hers.  
  
Ward Earp takes a step back and runs a hand over his face, his entire body moving as he takes a deep breath. He shakes his head and looks down at his daughters, meeting his oldest daughter’s glare.  
  
“What happened?” Willa demands, not looking away from their father. Wynonna switches back and forth between him and the cruiser parked near the barn, and this time when she looks over she finds Gus practically stumbling back to her truck to lean against it, the fight apparently wiped out of her for the moment. Wynonna’s skin is still itching, very much still ready to fight, and for the first time in her life she wonders what would happen if she took a swing at her father. She’s sure it wouldn’t go well for her, but her free hand curls into a fist nevertheless.  
  
“Your mama had a psychotic break,” Daddy tells them finally, his words short and clipped. Wynonna takes a step back unconsciously, unable to believe what he’s saying. “She tried to hurt… herself and… she’s being taken away. It isn’t safe for her to be here anymore, for her or any of us. This is… it’s for the best.”  
  
“Mama isn’t crazy,” Wynonna growls, throwing a glare at him. Surely they would have known by now if she was. Wouldn’t they?  
  
Daddy grits his jaw and gives her a look, and on a normal day she would immediately back down. This isn’t a normal day though, her mother is in the back of a police car and her father is trying to tell them she’s gone loco, so she stands her ground and just returns the look. His hands clench and unclench continuously as though he’s trying to decide how to react but then he lets out a long breath and slowly shakes his head.  
  
“It takes a lot out of a person, knowing what we know,” he tells them, as though the response explains everything. “Earps, we can handle it, but others.” He shakes his head. “Some people can’t take it. When they learn about what’s really in this world, they just…” He shrugs, but his brow is furrowed and his face is red, and when he looks back towards the car their mother sits in Wynonna thinks he actually looks a little lost.  
  
It’s not nearly good enough for her, not nearly a good enough explanation, and she’s about to tear into it when Willa asks the question that she should have had the second she noticed all the police cars at their house. “Where’s Waverly?”  
  
The fury that had been boiling in Wynonna’s stomach instantly freezes and it feels like someone has punched her hard in the gut. Mama kept Waverly with her when she dropped Wynonna and Willa off at Gus and Curtis’s that morning which meant whatever happened, if Mama really did have a mental breakdown, Waverly likely witnessed it. Even if she didn’t see whatever happened, she’d been alone when Daddy and the other cops showed up and threw Mama in the back of one of the cars, which meant she had to be terrified. Now Wynonna is wasting time yelling at their father while Waverly is alone somewhere and nothing about that is in any way okay.  
  
Daddy nods towards the front door, telling them, “She’s in her room.” Wynonna instantly turns to go into the house, but before she can take more than two steps he’s got her by the arm again, forcing her to stop and look at him. There’s something new in his expression, anger or fear or concern, she doesn’t know, but it keeps her from fighting against his grip. “She isn’t to know the truth,” he continues, his tone hard. “You tell her Mama ran away, that she left, that she isn’t coming back. You don’t tell her the truth. Got it?”  
  
“Not coming…” Wynonna begins, her voice fading out. Her heart wrenches in her chest and she doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand any of it, how Mama can be sitting in the back of Nedley’s cruiser, how it’s even possible she’s gone crazy, how Daddy wants them to lie to Waverly. How that morning when she dropped them off at Gus’s might have been the last time she’ll ever see Mama smile at her. Wynonna doesn’t understand and she desperately wants to, but more than anything at the moment what she wants is to find Waverly and make sure she’s okay.  
  
“Fine,” Willa answers for them, giving a single nod before pulling her arm out of Daddy’s grip and then he’s let go of Wynonna too and she’s already gone. The front door bangs off of the wall when she throws it open but she doesn’t slow down or bother to close it, just makes a beeline for the stairs and she can hear Willa’s heavy footsteps right behind her.  
  
She’s equally as careless with the door to Waverly’s room and even though it’s already open she still pushes against it, battering it against the wall. Officer Smith, the woman she and Willa have called Grannie Smith ever since they were little due to her gray hair and the wrinkles on her face, jumps from where she was standing at Waverly’s window, but Waverly herself almost looks like she was expecting them. She’s in her bed with blankets all piled on top of her lap but the second she sees them she’s reaching out, tears already running down her cheeks.  
  
“Wynonna,” she whimpers and Wynonna’s across the room in a moment, jumping up onto the bed and wrapping her arms around her baby sister. Waverly instantly clings to her and Wynonna is running her fingers through damp hair, and somewhere in the back of her mind she registers the fact that Waverly must have recently taken a bath, but the detail is lost in the moment. She whispers softly in her baby sister’s ear, shushing her and promising everything will be alright as Waverly’s tears stain the shoulder of the jacket she hasn’t taken off yet.  
  
Unseen by the two younger sisters, Officer Smith silently leaves the room, meeting Willa’s cold gaze before needing to look away. She leaves and Willa closes the door behind her, and then she joins her sisters on the bed, tucking herself behind Wynonna.  
  
Wynonna doesn’t even realize that she’s crying until Willa’s fingers are running through her hair just like hers are running through Waverly’s, and the knowledge only makes her bite her lip as she cries harder. She tries to stay silent so as not to scare her baby sister, but she must fail because after a minute Waverly picks her head up from her shoulder, and then brown eyes are slowly shifting from Wynonna’s face to Willa’s and back again.  
  
“I want Mama,” she whispers, her voice hoarse already. She blinks and tears drip from her eyelashes to her cheeks and Wynonna’s voice gets caught in her throat as she continues, “Where is she?”  
  
“Gone,” Willa answers. Her tone is quiet but strong, and Wynonna doesn’t know how she’s holding it together. Her insides twist and her throat burns, and all she can do is hold Waverly a little tighter.  
  
“When, when’s she coming back?” Waverly asks. The words sound as small as she is, which only makes Willa’s response all the more final. “She isn’t, Waverly. Mama left us.”  
  
It’s the truth and a lie all at the same time and it buries itself in Wynonna’s gut, a sharp burr she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to dig out. At the moment she has no choice but to ignore it as a heartbroken sob breaks from Waverly’s chest and then she’s holding her baby sister once again, cradling her against her chest. Waverly’s body trembles against her and Wynonna’s tears slip from her chin to land on top of Waverly’s head, and behind her Willa silently runs her fingers through Wynonna’s hair.  
  
Wynonna’s heart has never been so broken, but she’s also never been so grateful to be in the middle than she is right now. As their world falls down around them, Wynonna sits safely between her sisters, glad that at least she doesn’t have to break alone.


	4. Chapter 4

Waverly is seven-years-old (though now that Mama’s gone, she wonders if anyone realizes that besides her) and she’s heard every one of Daddy’s stories about Great-Great Grandpappy Wyatt. And Great Grandpappy Josiah. And Grandpa Edwin. There are dozens and dozens of tales about her famous relatives and she can practically recite them all. In fact, sometimes she does, on the playground at school with her friends. Usually they get bored and leave before she’s done telling a story, but the stories live inside her head and she loves them. Her favorites are the ones about Wyatt and his best friend Doc Holliday, riding together and taking down outlaws and bad guys with Peacemaker, the very gun Daddy now carries at his hip. Someday she wants to do that, to have a best friend she can take down evil with, but she knows that’s going to be Willa’s job. If she’s being honest she’s a little jealous of her oldest sister (after all, not only is Willa the Earp heir, she also has a best friend, the very person she wishes was _her_ best friend), but Waverly tries not to think about that.  
  
Yes, Waverly has listened to each one of Daddy’s stories and knows them all by heart, which is why she knows instantly that something is wrong. Very, very wrong.  
  
She doesn’t really know how it started, how they went from a quiet night at the homestead listening to Daddy talk about Wyatt Earp and Willa’s inherited destiny to screams and an uncontrolled terror Waverly has never felt before, not even after Mama left. Outside they can hear growls and a kind of roar she knows in her bones has never been uttered by an animal, and the laughter between the horrible cries only makes the sounds worse. Crazed orange light flickers outside the windows in the otherwise black night and the flashes of fire only make her breaths shorter and sharper.  
  
“There’s so many of them!” she hears Willa cry, and the fact that she can hear the fear in her oldest sister’s voice only makes Waverly tremble harder. She’s never known Willa to be afraid of _anything_ before. The eldest Earp girl turns briefly from her spot at the window and shoots a panicked look at their father. “You said they can’t attack the house!”  
  
Daddy takes the two steps to his left to join Willa at the window, and Waverly shrinks into herself when she catches the glimpse of panic on his face. “They figured out how to get around the bedrock!”  
  
“What’s happening?” Waverly yells, eyes darting back and forth between her father and oldest sister and the window, almost wishing she could see out of it but too terrified to step any closer. The hollering outside is only growing louder and multiple voices screech over each other, and Waverly’s so afraid she thinks she might wet herself even though she hasn’t had an accident since she was four.  
  
Nobody responds to her; Daddy and Willa don’t even spare her a second glance. Willa runs over to the table they’d all been gathered around only minutes before when life had been quiet and grabs Peacemaker from its surface. “I got the gun, Daddy,” she announces, holding it up, and then she’s back at the window again and her head is shaking almost as though she can’t believe what she sees. “There’s so many!”  
  
“There’s seven of them!” Daddy shouts, eyes darting around the yard out front where the monsters have obviously gathered. There’s a shotgun standing up by the front door and he lunges over to it, and Waverly wants to ask why when they all know it won’t do anything, but her voice is stuck in her throat. She’s too terrified to do anything other than stare until fingers clasp around her shoulder.  
  
“Come on,” Wynonna says, pulling her close and leading them towards the far wall. Waverly goes where her sister directs her, her mind moving too slowly to do anything else. “Let’s close our eyes and sing Mama’s lullaby. Just until the bad guys go away.” Her sister places herself between Waverly and what’s going on at the other side of the room and begins to hum haltingly, her own fear obvious in the tight grip she’s still holding on Waverly’s shoulder, but no matter how much she wants to Waverly can’t follow along. Mama’s lullaby has completely slipped from her mind in this moment and no matter how hard she tries her eyes refuse to close. Instead they stay glued on the other side of the room, and even with Wynonna’s body blocking her direct line of sight she still sees far too much.  
  
Willa’s in the corner by the window now, still peering out of it when a hand suddenly crashes through. Shards of glass of all sizes scatter across the floor and the sounds outside are instantly louder and Waverly’s heart gets stuck in her throat. “Daddy!” she screams and she can feel more than see Wynonna look back, her humming abruptly ending.  
  
To the sisters’ utter horror, Willa is screaming, a set of unidentifiable hands grasping at her, and they watch as their sister is wrenched through the window. Almost lost in the utter turmoil of the moment, Peacemaker drops from Willa’s grip, landing among the broken glass beneath the window.  
  
“Willa!” Wynonna screams, eyes wide and voice filled with terror, and on the other side of the room they hear Daddy shouting, “No!” With the shotgun in hand he yanks the front door open, and then he has disappeared into the flickering orange darkness outside.  
  
For no more than a second the two remaining Earps remain still, unable to process what just happened, but then Wynonna’s moving slowly over to the window. She’s bending down and grabbing Peacemaker and Waverly instantly knows what she’s going to do. With a quick shake of her head she hurries up to her big sister, crying, “You can’t help! You’re not the heir!”  
  
It’s a truth she knows her sister knows; after all, Wynonna’s heard Daddy’s stories just as much as Waverly has, but Wynonna doesn’t let go of Peacemaker. “Shotgun won’t work,” she says, and Waverly can’t tell if she’s speaking to her or to herself. “He needs Wyatt’s gun.” Waverly wants to say more, to beg Wynonna to drop the gun and to encourage her at the same time, but the words get stuck in her throat. Fear has clouded every instinct she has and she’s frozen, unable to think of what to do.  
  
Wynonna isn’t. Outside they hear Daddy shouting, “No!” over and over again, and Wynonna reacts. She’s out the door before Waverly has time to process what she’s hearing and the youngest Earp just stands there. Daddy has always seemed unmoving to her. Willa has always been invincible. Now she can hear both of their cries outside, screeches and rough laughter covering them every few seconds, and life has never been more confusing for the seven-year-old. She wants to help but doesn’t know how. This is supposed to be a fight for the Earp heir and that’s never going to be her, so what can she possibly do?  
  
A single gunshot rings out in an instant, and then her feet are moving. She’s running so fast it feels like she’s outside before the resounding echo has even been able to die down, and what she finds the second she steps out onto the porch stops her heart fast. “Daddy!” she screeches, the single word tearing from her throat, but his head has already fallen forward.  
  
Two men ( _Revenants_ , her mind whispers) are holding him up between them, but all the tension that had been in his body only moments ago has gone slack. His head is down, his legs are no longer trying to hold him up, and in the flickering orange light of the bonfire the revenants started, Waverly can see the spot in his back that the bullet entered. Dark blood oozes from the wound, staining the sheriff’s uniform he’s still wearing.  
  
One of the revenants holding onto him starts laughing, long and hard. He turns back, a wicked grin playing along his lips, and looks directly at Wynonna. “You killed your own daddy, girlie,” he says, amusement clear in his voice, and a low whimper slips from between Waverly’s lips.  
  
Wynonna hasn’t moved since she fired, her eyes wide and Peacemaker still held out straight in front of her. She’s staring at Daddy’s back in shock, completely silent. Neither she nor Waverly can even begin to process what just happened.  
  
A dark figure that looks more like a shadow than a man in the firelight turns and takes a step towards them, and all at once Wynonna breaks out of her stupor. Peacemaker clatters to the porch as she turns and grabs onto Waverly’s arm, clenching it in a tight grip and then she’s yanking her little sister back into the house.  
  
“Come on!” she yells and Waverly has no choice but to follow, her mind still caught on Daddy. In the distance she can still hear Willa screaming, but Wynonna pulls her in the opposite direction.  
  
Wynonna practically drags her up the stairs and down the hallway before she slams the door to Waverly’s bedroom open. Before Waverly is entirely sure what’s happening she’s being forced into her own closet, the space small and dark and filled with her stuffed animals, and Wynonna’s squeezing in with her before yanking the door shut behind them.  
  
“Wynonna, what-” she begins to ask but her sister cuts her off instantly. “Shh!” she growls, groping in the dark to put her hand over Waverly’s mouth. It presses against her cheek and then shifts over to her mouth, and Waverly goes quiet as she whispers fiercely, “We have to be silent, Waverly!”  
  
It’s not something Waverly’s always able to do, but in this moment she understands and is very careful not to make even a single sound. She’s shaking, her heart still racing and having a hard time breathing, and against her she can feel Wynonna trembling too, but both remain silent.  
  
Just outside the door to the closet, they can hear muffled shouting and laughter, and Waverly just tries to burrow deeper into the closet. Even when she presses her hands over her ears, she can still hear them and what she swears is the echo of a gunshot. 

***

Despite the fact that it feels like terror has forever seeped into Waverly’s skin, she falls asleep. In fact, she only realizes she’s fallen asleep when she suddenly jolts awake, that same terror clogging her airways. She’s still silent - or as silent as she can be as she’s trying to catch her breath and only being so successful - and she blinks a few times, trying to get used to the dark of the closet again. It isn’t as dark as it was; a strip of light shines beneath the crack of the door and she realizes they hid throughout the night and it’s now morning. The shouting and laughter from outside has stopped and now it’s quiet, so quiet Waverly feels the hair on her arms stick up. In some ways the stillness she feels around her is almost as scary as the chaos had been and she wants to break it.  
  
“Wynonna?” she whispers, her voice barely audible but cracking. She licks her lips nervously when she realizes how dry her mouth is and the moment she thinks about it what she wants more than anything is a glass of water. Maybe her sister will go with her to get one. The quiet must mean it’s safe again, right?  
  
“Wynonna?” she repeats when there’s no response to her whisper but still her sister doesn’t answer. Waverly wonders if maybe she fell asleep too and squints to try to make out the vague shapes in the dark of the closet but she can’t tell what’s Wynonna and what are her stuffed animals and clothes. She hesitates for a moment and chews her lip, trying to decide if she dares to move anymore than she already has but then decides to risk it. Carefully and as quietly as she can manage she gropes around in the dark, brushing up against sweaters and toys but no matter where she reaches she can’t seem to find her sister. With a little less hesitation and more worry she instead pushes against the closet door, wincing as it lets out a small creak but then there’s a crack a few inches wide and when she looks around the closet using the added light she realizes her sister is nowhere to be found. She’s alone, and her heart starts hammering in her chest and for just a couple of seconds she shrinks further back into the closet, afraid of what might happen if she steps outside of it. After those seconds pass her fingers curl into tight fists and her fingernails bite into her palms and she’s stepping forward, taking one long breath before she finally steps out of her closet.  
  
Nothing has changed in her room. It still looks the same, every book and picture is where it’s supposed to be, her bed is made, her favorite purple sheets tucked up under her pillows. Looking around she could almost believe she’d dreamt everything that happened, could convince herself none of it was real and that she would find her whole family waiting for her as soon as she stepped out of her room, maybe even Mama. The images that play in her mind are all too real though, Willa’s screams and Daddy’s shouting play on a loop with a gunshot interrupting them every few seconds, and she knows she never could have dreamt up something so terrible. With her fingernails still digging into her skin, slowly she makes her way out of her room to face reality and find the sister she’s supposed to still have.  
  
Downstairs the little bit of hope she had vanishes. Sunlight shines through the windows but now one is without glass, its shards glinting on the floor beneath it. The front door is closed but the shotgun that so often stands beside it is missing, and the drawing Waverly had been coloring before everything went so very wrong is on the floor, a couple of shards of glass covering it. The curtains hanging in front of the broken window shift slightly from a small breeze, and despite the fact that it’s only early fall Waverly shivers, crossing her arms in front of her. She holds herself together because she doesn’t know what else to do. Where’s Wynonna, where did she go? A scarier question plays at the back of her mind and she tries not to think about it, but she just can’t keep it down: _Is she coming back?_  
  
Waverly stands in the middle of the room for what has to be ten minutes, staring at the broken window and shivering, wondering where her sisters are and if either of them are ever going to come back, until suddenly a sharp ringing breaks the near silence. The sudden noise causes her to jump and for a moment she can’t place what it is, but then she recognizes the ringing of the telephone and she rushes over to its place on the table by the stairs. As she moves her eyes dart around, searching for any sign she isn’t alone, but when there isn’t any she picks up the big red receiver on the fifth ring.  
  
“Hello?” Waverly’s voice sounds small even to her but she can’t help it. She leans back against the staircase, eyes still constantly moving.  
  
“...Waverly? Is that you?” She doesn’t recognize the voice immediately and just lets out a little whimper of acknowledgement. There’s silence on the other end for a second and then the voice continues, “This is Officer Nedley. Where’s your daddy, sweetheart? He’s usually at the station by now.”  
  
Waverly’s lower lip quivers and she can feel the tears building at the back of her eyes, but they don’t fall. It takes her a moment to find her voice, but finally she manages to whisper into the phone, “They took him. And, and Willa. They’re gone. And I don’t, I don’t know w-where Wynonna is.”  
  
Again there’s silence, a beat longer this time, but then Nedley’s speaking again, this time more sternly and a little faster. “I’m gonna be right there, Waverly, you hear me? You get yourself somewhere safe and you wait for me. Don’t leave that house.”  
  
She whimpers a confirmation and he promises one more time he’s on his way, and then the line goes dead as he hangs up. Waverly returns the receiver to the base and then stands there, trying to decide where safe exists. Before last night every part of the homestead was safe, each nook and cranny, but now it all feels open and vulnerable and tarnished. The revenants didn’t even come in the house, not really, but she still doesn’t know if any of it will ever feel safe to her again.  
  
Her gaze ends up shifting towards the kitchen, and all at once she remembers how thirsty she is. There isn’t really any great place to hide in there but she moves towards it anyway, the need for a glass of water winning out over everything else at the moment. She moves around the kitchen like she always has, moving one of the chairs in place by the sink so she can reach the faucet and grab one of the clean glasses in the dish rack, but now her movements are smaller, more mouse-like than ever before. Every sound she makes has her pausing, her ears straining for any noise that might lead her to believe she isn’t as alone as she thinks she is. She still has no idea where Wynonna is and her heart hasn’t stopped racing, but she knows there’s no way she’s going to be able to step outside of the house, at least not alone. She wants to be brave but she just isn’t, and that cowardice makes her sink further into herself, her shoulders shifting almost up to her ears.  
  
With her glass of water in hand, Waverly decides the best place to be is under the table, so that’s where she goes. She pulls the chair she’d been using to stand on behind her and leans against it, and just sits under the table and constantly shifts her gaze all around. From here she can see most of the layout of the house, and thanks to that her eyes never stay still.  
  
A few minutes later there’s movement on the porch, the boards in front of the door creaking, and Waverly’s trembling again. She knows it hasn’t been long enough for Nedley to get here so all she can imagine are the revenants from last night, coming back to take her just like they took Willa. Her arms wrap around one of the table’s legs and she stares at the front door, petrified of what she’ll see when it opens.  
  
What she sees is Wynonna, and her heart drops from her throat to her stomach as she lets out a breath of relief. Wynonna scans the area just like she’s been doing and quickly sees Waverly, and the sisters stare at each other for a second before Wynonna makes her way towards the kitchen. Her skin is pale, there are dark circles under her eyes that tell Waverly she didn’t manage to get any sleep, and long strands of hair have come out of her double braids, but she’s there and from what Waverly can tell she’s uninjured and the little girl just wants to wrap her arms around her and cry until she can’t cry anymore. She then remembers what happened to Daddy, the part Wynonna played in it, and her arms remain wrapped around the leg of the table rather than shifting over to her sister.  
  
For her part Wynonna looks away as soon as she reaches the kitchen. She glances around, moves over to the counter and grabs one of the big knives from the block by the oven, and Waverly realizes she probably should have thought to do that too. With the knife in hand Wynonna moves again, and then she’s down on the floor too, leaning back against the opposite leg of the table. She has, just barely, placed herself between Waverly and the door, and the two girls sit in complete silence, neither knowing what they could even begin to say to the other.  
  
Some amount of time later Waverly doesn’t know how to measure, the porch is creaking again and Waverly’s holding tightly to the leg of the table while Wynonna lifts the knife, her knuckles white from how hard she’s gripping it. The door opens and the first thing through the crack is the muzzle of a gun, and then Officer Nedley is following it. His eyes sweep every open room he can see, and then they land briefly on the two girls before continuing with the sweep. Waverly instantly relaxes, the tension finally beginning to leave her shoulders, but Wynonna just lowers the knife without actually letting go of it.  
  
“Girls, is anyone else in the house?” Nedley asks, his voice low as he enters and quietly shuts the door behind him. His gun doesn’t lower, held out in front of him as he continues to sweep the area.  
  
“No,” Wynonna answers, her voice stronger than Waverly might have expected it to be. For her part she just shakes her head and releases her grip on the table’s leg, but otherwise doesn’t move.  
  
Even with the answer Nedley is cautious, checking around every piece of furniture as he slowly makes his way to them. When he enters the kitchen his gaze quickly covers the area, and then he’s squatting down by the table, lowering his gun a little.  
  
“I’m gonna go check the upstairs,” he tells them, making eye contact first with Wynonna and then with Waverly. “Officer Smith is outside doing a sweep of the barn. You two stay here, but yell if you see anything, got it?” They both nod and he returns it, and then he’s slowly making his way to the stairs, his gun up and in front of him again.  
  
It takes a while for Nedley to go through the entire house and Waverly isn’t really sure what he’s looking for since she already told him they were gone, but she doesn’t argue or even say anything at all. She just sits under the table and curls her knees up to her chest and holds them tightly while Wynonna sits near her without moving.  
  
When Nedley comes back down he gives them what even Waverly knows is a forced smile and then goes straight to the phone. He makes several phone calls but Waverly doesn’t really listen to any of them. All she can really hear is the echoing of Daddy and Willa’s screams that keep playing over and over in her head. Her hands end up over her ears as she tries to tune them out, and then her forehead is pressing against her knees as her eyes clench shut.  
  
Before long the entire Purgatory Police Department arrives, which really just means Nedley has called in the new rookie to come help them, and when Waverly sees Officer Stevens enter the house he’s already looking a little pale. There’s sweat beading on his forehead and running down his face and Waverly doesn’t understand why because all she can feel is cold. Nedley mutters something to him and she thinks she hears, “...help Smith and the coroner…” but Waverly doesn’t know what that means. Whatever he says has Stevens turning right back around, but before he can leave his eyes flash over to the two girls still on the floor by the table. Beside her Wynonna glares at him but Waverly just stays in the ball she’s curled herself into and doesn’t meet his look.  
  
Not long after Officer Stevens shows up a woman steps through the door Waverly’s never met before. Her dark hair is pulled back into a tight bun and she’s wearing a skirt and suit jacket, a bag slung over her shoulder. She stops to talk to Nedley who meets her by the stairs and they’re talking too quietly for Waverly to hear them. She sees the woman look past Nedley’s shoulder at them and push the glasses she’s wearing further up the bridge of her nose and Waverly thinks she’s pretty. Her skin is the same color as Waverly’s favorite caramels and when she steps around Nedley she’s looking down at the two girls with kind dark eyes. Wynonna watches her suspiciously but Waverly manages to return her soft smile with a tiny one of her own.  
  
“Hi,” she says when she reaches the kitchen. She kneels down, carefully tucking her legs under her and setting her bag on the floor, and the soft smile doesn’t leave. “My name’s Keira. Officer Nedley called me to come talk to you two. Can you tell me your names?”  
  
Waverly pulls a little further into herself and doesn’t say anything. Wynonna glares at the woman for a second, looking her up and down, before telling her, “You already know our names.”  
  
Keira nods, her smile not faltering. “I do, but I’d like you to tell me. Introductions are always nicer in person.”  
  
Wynonna seems to internally weigh whether it’s worth saying anymore, but then grunts, “Wynonna.” She nods to her little sister. “Waverly.”  
  
Keira’s smile grows just a little bit. “It’s nice to meet you, Wynonna, Waverly.” She reaches out her hand towards Waverly but the little girl scoots back and all at once Wynonna is in front of her, slapping the woman’s hand away. The knife she grabbed earlier is still held tightly in her grip, hanging down at her side.  
  
“Don’t touch her,” Wynonna growls, a warning all too obvious in her tone and posture. Keira holds her hands up and shifts back while Nedley hurries over.  
  
“Easy there Wynonna, it’s alright, she just wants to help,” he tells her, trying to keep his voice even. Holding out his hand towards her, he adds, “Why don’t you give me that knife and then we can all talk?”  
  
Wynonna’s grip on the knife doesn’t loosen and she just glares at the officer.  
  
Keira waves at Nedley but doesn’t look away from the two girls. “It’s alright. Wynonna, I won’t touch either you or your sister, okay? I promise.” Her voice is gentle and Waverly kind of likes it but she still stays huddled behind her sister.  
  
The nice lady asks some more questions about them, ones Waverly’s sure Nedley already knows the answers to, and Wynonna answers them haltingly. Waverly remains silent, her knees still tucked up by her chest, but whenever Keira smiles directly at her she at least attempts to smile back.  
  
Keira has asked them a lot of questions by the time the front door opens again, and Waverly jumps before carefully peering around Wynonna to see who it is. Her aunt and uncle are standing by the open front door as though they’re in a daze. Gus is staring at the glass on the floor with her mouth hanging open, and Curtis is staring at the group in the kitchen.  
  
“Uncle Curtis!” Waverly cries, speaking for the first time since she hung up the phone. She scrambles to her feet, very nearly slamming her head against the underside of the table, and then she’s rushing over to them. He hurries to meet her halfway and then is on one knee and his arms are wrapped around her, holding her so tightly she can’t breathe. It doesn’t matter: the second his arms are around her she’s crying, burying her face into the crook of his neck and soaking his shirt in mere seconds.  
  
“It’s alright Waverly, I’ve got you,” she hears him whisper in his low timbre and she just cries harder. Over her sobs she hears Gus call Wynonna’s name and she peaks out just long enough to see that Wynonna’s followed her. Their aunt pulls her into her arms and Wynonna stands stiffly for a moment before throwing her own arms around Gus’s middle, dropping the knife in the process. She presses her face against Gus’s stomach and Waverly isn’t sure if she’s crying or just hiding.  
  
Waverly stays like that for a long time, crying into her uncle’s shoulder, but eventually he picks her up and moves them to the couch in the living room. She curls up against him and keeps her eyes shut, wishing she could just drown out everything that’s happened. The cushions shift beside them as more people sit, and without needing to see she knows Wynonna’s beside her, her thigh pressed against Waverly’s leg. Waverly shifts, pulling herself further into Curtis’s lap until they aren’t touching anymore.  
  
“Girls, we need to know what happened here,” Nedley begins once the family has settled. Waverly’s eyes open just long enough for her to take a quick look around before squeezing shut again. Keira has perched herself at the edge of Daddy’s chair, watching them intently, while Nedley stands between the chair and the couch, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably.  
  
Waverly doesn’t answer, she doesn’t know how to get the words out, so she tucks her face further into her uncle’s neck. The room is quiet for a long moment as the adults all wait for one of them to say something, and finally Wynonna breaks the silence.  
  
“There were seven of them,” she says quietly, and Waverly’s grip on her uncle tightens. “Daddy was just telling us about Wyatt Earp again when they were suddenly outside. They were laughing and, and roaring. Daddy grabbed the shotgun and Willa had Peacemaker.” Waverly peaks out of Curtis’s shoulder and sees Wynonna staring off in front of her. Her face is pale and she’s shaking her head when she whispers, “They weren’t supposed to be on our land.”  
  
“I know these kinds of experiences are hard, Wynonna,” Keira tells her gently as she leans forward. “No one ever believes bad things can happen to them, but the unfortunate truth is they can happen anywhere and to anyone.”  
  
“No,” Wynonna growls, glaring at her. “I mean they weren’t supposed to be _able_ to be on our land. On Earp land.”  
  
It’s clear to both of the sisters that the woman doesn’t understand just by the way she nods, her brow pulling together sympathetically, but she doesn’t focus on it. “Go on,” she encourages. “What happened next?”  
  
“Willa was in the corner,” Wynonna continues, staring towards the spot where it all went down. “One of them smashed the window in and grabbed her. I didn’t see which one. She musta dropped Peacemaker.” Wynonna’s voice hitches and Waverly bites hard at her bottom lip, more tears slipping down her cheeks to stain Curtis’s shirt. “He pulled her through and she was screaming. Daddy was shouting and ran outside with the shotgun, but it was the wrong gun.”  
  
“What’dya mean, Wynonna?” Nedley asks, shifting towards her. “How’s it the wrong gun?”  
  
“Only Peacemaker can put ‘em down,” she tells him, glancing over at the officer. “Daddy always said the Earp heir has to use Peacemaker to send ‘em back to hell.”  
  
Keira’s brow lifts at that and then furrows again and her head tilts. Nedley frowns and Gus and Curtis look at each other, uncertain.  
  
“What’re you talking about Wynonna?” Gus asks, looking at the niece sitting beside her. “Who was your daddy sending to hell?”  
  
“The revenants,” Wynonna answers, meeting Gus’s look. “The seventy-seven outlaws that Wyatt Earp put down. That’s who they were, they were the demons and they came after Daddy and Willa cuz of the curse. Daddy had the shotgun but it wouldn’t work, he needed Peacemaker or the demons wouldn’t die.”  
  
The adults all look at each other, shock and confusion and sympathy on their faces. It’s Nedley who finally says, “Wynonna, honey, demons aren’t real. There’s no such thing, and though your Daddy might’a been a good shot with that old gun, there was nothin’ special about it.”  
  
Wynonna glowers at him, her eyes fierce and mouth pursed in fury.  
  
“There are demons,” she growls, her hands curling into fists on her lap. “They’re real, and they were here last night. They weren’t supposed to be able to get on our land but they did, and then they stole Willa and killed Daddy!”  
  
“You killed Daddy.”  
  
The words are quiet, soft, almost lost in Wynonna’s anger and Curtis’s shoulder, but Waverly whispers them anyway. She finally picks her head up and fully turns towards her sister, and Wynonna’s eyes are wide and staring at her. Waverly stares right back and she’s sure they’re both hearing the gunshot again. All the color has drained from her big sister’s face and Waverly can see her hands are trembling on her lap but that doesn’t keep her from repeating the words. “You shot him.”  
  
Gus takes a sharp breath on Wynonna’s other side and Waverly can feel Curtis stiffen. Keira and Nedley’s eyes have both widened, and everyone’s now staring at Wynonna in shock and a little bit of horror. Her lip quivers as she looks around the room and it’s almost as though she’s shrinking beneath the stares.  
  
“I, I didn’t mean to.” Her voice is nothing more than a small whisper. “I was, I wanted to help. I thought I could save him. I tried, tried to shoot one of the revenants that had him but I, I’m not the heir. I missed.”  
  
A long drawn out silence follows the admission. It’s like the adults can’t quite accept what she’s saying and Waverly doesn’t know what to do. Wynonna’s all she has now, is the only member of her family left, but every time she looks at her she hears a gunshot and sees Daddy slumped over, his body dragging between the two revenants.  
  
Gus is the one that finally breaks the silence.  
  
“You, you didn’t mean to,” she says, her arm carefully circling over Wynonna’s shoulders. The girl flinches but doesn’t pull away. “You were just trying to save your daddy.”  
  
From the stiffness of the Earp girls’ shoulders, the adults all know they don’t see it like that, not yet anyway.  
  
The room is quiet for a long moment, and then Nedley breaks it. “Where’s the gun, Wynonna?” His voice is low, gentle, but even so Wynonna flinches. She looks away, can’t meet anyone’s eyes, and shrugs.  
  
“Don’t know,” she tells them, her voice rough. “I dropped it. Don’t know where it is now. I think maybe, maybe one of the revenants took it.”  
  
Waverly shudders at the thought of a revenant with Peacemaker and her grip on her uncle’s shirt tightens.  
  
The questions continue and Waverly falls back into her silence while Wynonna answers them. It feels like Nedley and Keira ask the same questions over and over again and soon Wynonna’s answers are surly, clipped, even going so far as to throw a pillow from the couch as she shouts, “I already _told_ you! The demons were laughing and growling when they grabbed Willa! They took her because she’s the Earp heir!”  
  
Finally the questions stop, and Waverly is exhausted. Just having to listen to it all over and over again has driven any energy she might have had out of her bones and her entire body feels heavy. Beside her Wynonna must feel the same way because she’s slumped against the back of the couch, her arms crossed tightly over her chest and her eyes are clenched tightly shut.  
  
The adults all get up and leave the girls on the couch to gather in the kitchen. Gus comes back a few minutes later with sandwiches for each of her nieces, and Waverly honestly doesn’t know if she’s hungry or not. She can’t quite remember the last time she’s eaten but there’s a pit in her stomach now that didn’t exist before last night, and she’s not sure food can fill it. She picks at the sandwich, taking little bites, and nibbles on the chips Gus included on the side of the plate. Wynonna ignores her plate completely and still hasn’t opened her eyes again. Waverly thinks she might be asleep but then sees the way the corners of her mouth curl down and knows she isn’t.  
  
From the kitchen Waverly can hear snippets of the grown-ups’ conversation but doesn’t really pay attention to it.  
  
“The trauma of the event has clearly manifested in these delusions,” Keira says, and Gus whispers something that Waverly doesn’t pick up but she can hear the anger in her voice. “...family history of mental disorder,” Keira replies but Waverly doesn’t understand what that means or even really what she’s saying. Whatever it is, it’s made her aunt angry, growling right back, “There _isn’t_ a history, Wynonna’s never shown any signs before…”  
  
After only a couple of minutes Waverly stops listening, her head hurting. She’s tired and the little bit of food she’s managed to eat is making her stomach roll and for a second she thinks she might get sick. The moment passes and then she’s just left wiped, drained of the desire to do anything but just lay down and pretend none of this is happening. She leans back against the couch and looks over at Wynonna, and for a second considers pushing against her. Part of her wants to feel her sister, to hold her hand and cry into her shoulder like she’s already done with Curtis, but the other part of her still doesn’t know how to feel about what happened, so she rests her head against the arm of the couch instead. Her eyes close and she thinks maybe she could fall asleep if she tried really hard, but sleep doesn’t come. Nevertheless she lays there, unmoving and trying not to think about screams or gunshots.  
  
Footsteps pull her out of a half-dream state a while later and she cracks one eye open. Keira and Nedley have moved in front of the couch and are looking between the sisters. Keira kneels down in front of Wynonna and places a gentle hand on her knee while Nedley stands just off to the side behind her, once again shifting from one foot to the other. Waverly looks up and can see Gus and Curtis standing just behind the couch. Neither look happy and Waverly frowns, the pit in her stomach sinking further.  
  
Wynonna’s eyes finally open as well, the second Keira’s hand touches her. Her leg jerks and she sits upright, glaring at the woman but not pulling away. There’s something in Keira’s soft expression that has her suspicions up, and Wynonna’s eyes narrow. “What?”  
  
“Wynonna, you and I are going to go with Officer Nedley down to the station, okay?” Keira tells her, her voice suddenly a little too calm. “And then after you’ve finished giving your official statement I’m going to take you somewhere you can get some help.”  
  
“I don’t need help,” Wynonna tells her, glancing quickly from Keira to Nedley and back again. “And I’ve already told you what happened, over and over.”  
  
“I know Wynonna, but we need to do this by the book,” Nedley informs her, his thumbs hooking into his belt. They can hear how uncomfortable he is in the tone of his voice, but he keeps his eyes locked on her anyway. “Your sister’s been kidnapped and you…” He pauses, shoulders shifting uncomfortably before continuing, “You shot your daddy. I know it was an accident, but we still need to file a report, and we’re gonna have you work with a sketch artist to see if we can identify any of the men who took Willa.”  
  
“I told you, they weren’t men they were demons.” Wynonna gets the words out from between clenched teeth and Nedley just rubs at his forehead, as though he can’t quite believe this is happening. The grip on Wynonna’s knee tightens just a little to pull her attention back to Keira, and the woman gives her a sympathetic smile.  
  
“There’s no such thing as demons, Wynonna,” she tells her gently. “You’re sick and confused, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but I’m going to take you to some people that can help you get better.”  
  
Waverly wants to tell Keira she’s wrong, there are demons, Daddy told them so and they attacked last night, but her heart is beating too fast to find the words. She’s watching this all with wide eyes, a fresh flood of terror slowly filling her skin.  
  
“There _are_ ,” Wynonna growls, eyes flashing. “They’re real, and they were here last night.” She pushes Keira’s hand away from her, and as she moves her eyes shift over to Waverly. Something in her expression hardens and then she’s glaring at the woman kneeling in front of her again. “And I’m not leaving my sister. You can’t make me.”  
  
“Waverly’s gonna go home with Gus and Curtis,” Nedley informs them, nodding to their aunt and uncle still standing behind the couch. “They’ll take good care of her, you know that. And when you’re better you’ll join them too.”  
  
“Come on,” Keira says, her tone still light, “let’s go pack a bag for you, okay?” She reaches out to help Wynonna off the couch, but the second she tries to touch Wynonna again the control she’s been desperately trying to hold onto snaps.  
  
“No!” she shouts, smacking the woman’s hands away from her. She jumps up from the couch and grabs the plate she hasn’t yet touched. “I’m not going, I won’t leave!” She hurls the plate across the room and it smashes into the wall. The sandwich bursts open and chips and the ceramic plate shatter, scattering across the floor.  
  
“Wynonna-!” Gus calls, probably trying to help her calm down, but Nedley has already jumped into action. Keira stumbles back when Wynonna’s fist flies towards her, not quite moving fast enough to entirely miss the scrape of knuckles against her cheek, and Nedley grabs at the girl. Wynonna’s shouting and flailing, her fists coming down over and over again on the arms that have wrapped around her, desperately trying to get out of the officer’s grip but he just holds her tighter.  
  
“Easy Wynonna!” He has to shout to try to be heard over her, and just barely winces when her heel rams back into his shin as he lifts her up. “You need to calm down!”  
  
“Let me go!” she screams, tearing at his arms with her fingernails. “I don’t want to go anywhere! Leave me alone!”  
  
Terror has left Waverly frozen yet again, but this time she snaps out of it faster than she did last night. She can’t quite believe what’s happening, but she knows these people are trying to take her sister away from her, and she can’t let that happen. The thought of being without Wynonna, of being alone, is even more terrifying than the revenants were and she knows she has to do something. All at once she forgets it was Wynonna who shot Daddy, forgets everything except that the person she loves most is being taken away from her and she breaks.  
  
“Let her go!” she screams, jumping up off the couch and slamming into Nedley’s side. Her little fists pound into his hip, and she doesn’t realize there are tears once again streaming down her face. “Let my sister go! Wynonna!”  
  
“Waverly!” Wynonna shouts, just flailing harder against the arms holding her. “Waverly!”  
  
Nedley is trying to walk backwards, hauling the squirming girl with him while trying to avoid both girls’ fists as best he can but Waverly’s fingers grip his shirt and don’t let go as she screams, “No! Wynonna!”  
  
Hands grab Waverly, trying to be gentle but she yanks against them. She doesn’t look to see who it is, all she can focus on is that she’s lost her grip on Nedley’s shirt and now he’s dragging Wynonna out the door. “No!” she wails, fighting against the hands on her, and then without thinking she turns and her teeth sink into flesh. Curtis swears and lets her go, clasping at his arm, and she doesn’t waste any time. Little legs are sprinting towards the door before anyone else can stop her.  
  
When she makes it to the porch she finds Nedley and Wynonna, his arms still wrapped around her middle as she fights against him, and they’re halfway to his police cruiser. Waverly lets out a cry and then she’s running again, screaming after her sister. “Wynonna!”  
  
There are tears running down Wynonna’s cheeks and dripping from her chin, and the sight of them only makes Waverly’s fall faster. “Waverly!” Wynonna screams, desperately reaching out for her as she continues to kick back against Nedley. “Waverly! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”  
  
“Wynonna!” Waverly cries, desperately reaching out for her sister. “Don’t go! Don’t leave me!” Wynonna scrambles even harder against Nedley, using every ounce of strength she possesses to try to get to her sister, but nothing she does gets him to let her go.  
  
Again there are hands on her, arms wrapping around her, and now Waverly’s also fighting against someone’s grip as they lift her up. “Shh,” she hears Keira whisper to her hurriedly, “it’s alright, you’re both going to be alright.”  
  
It’s a lie and Waverly knows it, and in that moment she realizes all of the woman’s smiles and gentle words had been lies too. This woman is taking Wynonna away from her, taking away the only family she has left, and in that moment Waverly learns that kind doesn’t always mean safe. She’s never felt more frightened as this woman whispers what are supposed to be reassuring words to her and she watches Nedley practically wrestle Wynonna into the back of his cruiser.  
  
Even after the door has been slammed shut behind her Wynonna is pounding against the glass and fighting, and Waverly is powerless to do anything to help her no matter how much she struggles. She cries and screams as she watches the last member of her family being ripped away from her by people she trusted.  
  
The cruiser begins its descent down the driveway and all of a sudden Waverly is completely alone. She is the last Earp standing on their family land, and all at once her life has come crumbling down around her.


	5. Chapter 5

It’s a forty-five minute drive from St. Victoria’s Psychiatric Facility to the McCready ranch, and Wynonna spends most of that time in silence. Beside her Gus is silent as well, every now and then humming along to the radio but more often simply staring at the road in front of her. Sometimes Wynonna catches her aunt glimpsing at her out of the corner of her eye but she doesn’t say anything, just watches the trees and houses go by.  
  
It’s the first time in three months she’s really been allowed to leave St. Victoria’s. She’s been outside, of course, explored the area around the facility, but it’s the first time she’s been allowed to leave the grounds. She might have cheered at the top of her lungs the second the building disappeared in the rearview mirror if she knew she wouldn’t be going right back in just a few days. And if the fog her meds always put her in wasn’t currently clouding her mind. Three months in and she still isn’t used to living her life as though she were constantly trying to move through wet fog. It isn’t so bad at the moment, she mostly just feels tired, so she leans against her window, tapping out a rhythm to the music against the glass. It’s completely offbeat and when she actually listens she realizes the tapping doesn’t actually match up to the song at all, but she keeps going anyway.  
  
“We gotta stop at the store before we head home,” Gus says suddenly. Wynonna doesn’t bother looking over, just glances from one telephone pole to the next as they continue down the road. “Anything you can think of you need?”  
  
She shrugs the shoulder that isn’t pressed against the door. “No,” she answers, and then after a long beat, “Could use some tampons. Almost out, only on my second day.”  
  
“Alright,” Gus tells her, nodding her head without taking her eyes off the road, “we can take care of that. Need anything else for that? Midol, chocolate?”  
  
Wynonna lets out a short, sarcastic snort. “Think I’m on enough drugs right now, thanks.” From the corner of her eye she can see her aunt’s grip on the steering wheel tighten, her knuckles turning white. She considers leaving it there, but then adds a little more lightly, “Chocolate might be nice. Donuts?”  
  
“Tampons and chocolate donuts, we can do that,” Gus agrees, one corner of her mouth curling up and she turns just for a second to flash her niece the smile. Wynonna thinks it looks a little forced but she doesn’t say anything, just nods once and then turns back to the window.  
  
Even in her medicated state, Wynonna can feel how awkward this is. It’s not like she hasn’t seen Gus since she was sent away - in fact, her aunt visits her weekly at St. Victoria’s, sometimes even multiple times a week - but being alone together outside of the facility is strange. Wynonna has had doctors and psychiatrists watching her on a daily basis ever since the night of the revenant attack, and now it’s as though she doesn’t quite know how to act without anyone watching and analyzing her every move. Gus clearly doesn’t know how to act around her either, and the weird tension between them is turning this into a very long car ride. Wynonna leans forward to turn up the music, hoping it’ll drown the awkwardness out. Black Sabbath’s _Evil Woman_ blasts through the truck’s speakers and Wynonna’s finger starts tapping again. At least Gus listens to good music and she isn’t forced to spend the entire car ride listening to the Christmas crap she’s sure has flooded every radio station over the last month or more. That’s something.  
  
Gus pulls up in front of one of Purgatory’s two convenience stores halfway through _After Forever_ and Wynonna only realizes her foot had started tapping along also after the music shuts off. She stays where she is, having absolutely zero desire to leave the truck, until Gus looks over at her and raises a single eyebrow. The movement is all she needs for Wynonna to know staying in the truck isn’t going to be an option, so she lets out a groan and rolls her eyes but pushes her door open. Her hands shove into her pockets as soon as she has slammed the door shut again and her shoulders hunch up practically to her ears. The truck wasn’t exactly warm but the air outside it is so much colder and Wynonna shrinks into herself. For a moment she wishes she’d actually put on the hat and gloves her aunt had offered her when they were leaving St. Victoria’s but she shrugs the thought off and just follows Gus into the store.  
  
It’s at least warm enough inside the store that Wynonna can’t see her breath anymore, and her shoulders slowly begin to relax just a little. Gus moves straight to where a line of shopping carts wait and grabs one, even as she nods towards the baskets stacked up beside Wynonna.  
  
“I’m gonna get us some groceries, got a few things we still need for tomorrow’s dinner,” she says. “Why don’t you go get your tampons? And while you’re at it see if you can find any craft supplies. Waverly wants to make decorations to go on the tree.”  
  
The corner of Wynonna’s mouth twitches, an actual smile threatening to appear that she pushes back down. “Course she does.” That sounds exactly like something her baby sister would want to do.  
  
Gus nods, taking a piece of paper out of her pocket and looking it over. “Most of what I need to get is right together, so I’ll come find you when I’m done. Got it?”  
  
“Sure Gus.” Wynonna waves her hand to indicate she understands and then the two split up, Gus heading to the other side of the store towards the food while Wynonna hangs back and begins to make her way towards the toiletries and feminine products. The store isn’t particularly big - nothing in Purgatory is - but she at least loses sight of her aunt when she turns down one of the aisles and for the first time in months Wynonna is truly left alone. She closes her eyes for just a second, takes in a deep breath, and revels in it before beginning her search for tampons.  
  
A new box of tampons tossed in the basket, Wynonna meanders down the two or three aisles that don’t contain food, looking the stocked goods over without actually paying any attention to it. She grabs a bottle of glue and a packet of markers and skips over the limited glitter selection with a shudder. Only once had Mama actually agreed to get Waverly glitter, and it had been a decision the rest of them immediately regretted. Wynonna still finds a sparkle or two of the stuff on her clothes sometimes and she’s convinced it will never actually be entirely gone.  
  
She’s stopped beside the small selection of construction paper, trying to decide if she cares enough to put actual thought into what colors to get or if she should just grab a handful of whatever and call it good, when she hears the clacking of heels stop behind her. She waits for them to continue and disappear into another aisle but they remain quiet, so Wynonna turns against her better judgement. When she sees one of Purgatory’s biggest gossips behind her, she very nearly lets out a groan. Mrs. Streadson is in her late thirties, blonde, and one of the more annoying people that Wynonna knows. Her nine-year-old son Harris stands beside her, and both of them are staring at her.  
  
“Wynonna Earp,” Mrs. Streadson says, her voice falsely sweet. Blue eyes glance down Wynonna’s body and then back up again and she instantly wants to leave, but instead Wynonna stands her ground. “What are you doing here, sweetie? I heard you were… away.”  
  
“They let me out for a few days. Rewarding me for my good behavior and all that.” Wynonna gives her a cocky grin, balancing her basket on one hip. “Guess they decided some fresh air would do me good.”  
  
Mrs. Streadson’s smile is thin and doesn’t reach anywhere near her eyes. Wynonna’s always thought she was made of sharp angles and sharper judgement, and now the full focus of that judgement is on her. “Well surely you must be under some kind of supervision. I’m sure your doctors can’t think it’s a good idea to leave you on your own even with your… good behavior.” The way she says it tells Wynonna she can’t even begin to fathom the concept of “good” in relation with the Earp, and it makes heat slowly begin to gather under her skin. It’s a bit of a relief to feel the heat breaking through the fog still clouding her mind so she lets it build.  
  
“Well the docs aren’t here now, are they?” she tells the woman, letting her cocky grin grow. “First bit of freedom I’ve had in months, and I gotta say, I’m lovin’ it like a big mac.” There’s a small candy rack behind the mother and son so Wynonna reaches out and grabs a bag of peanut M&M’s, scoffing as Mrs. Streadson’s arm darts out to push her son away and they both take a step back. “You know you can’t catch crazy, right?” she points out, lifting an eyebrow up at the older woman. “You’ve either got it or you don’t, and your life is obviously too boring to have it.” Without looking away she rips a corner off of the packet of M&M’s and then tilts her head back, shaking it until a few of the candies roll into her mouth. She chews them loudly, still grinning.  
  
Now Mrs. Streadson isn’t even trying to be polite. The corners of her mouth have turned down and she reaches up with one hand to fiddle with the necklace she always wears. It’s a string of small pearls that Wynonna’s always thought is as gaudy as it is ugly, and she knows Mrs. Streadson really only wears it to remind everyone in town how much money her family has. Mama used to roll her eyes every time she saw it and the woman who owned it, and now Wynonna wants to do the same thing.  
  
“I really do not think it’s safe for you to be on your own, Wynonna Earp.” Mrs. Streadson’s voice is thin and sharp and it only makes the heat beneath Wynonna’s skin simmer more. “It is very clear to everyone you’re a danger. I don’t know what your aunt and uncle were thinking, allowing you out of that place already!”  
  
“We’re thinking it’s best to be around family this time of year, Fiona, no matter what else is going on.” Gus’s voice is hard, unyielding, and Wynonna’s glad that it’s on her side at the moment. Mrs. Streadson stiffens as soon as she hears it, clearly surprised by the woman’s appearance in their aisle. “I would have thought a family woman like yourself would understand that.” Gus keeps coming until she’s standing beside her niece, giving the other woman a look so fierce that Wynonna honestly hopes Mrs. Streadson keeps talking out of her ass so she can see what Gus’ll do. Wynonna certainly isn’t scared of her aunt, but she sure as hell can be intimidating.  
  
Apparently Mrs. Streadson isn’t prepared to see what happens when Gus McCready is pushed past her limit, and honestly, it’s hard for Wynonna to hide her disappointment. Mrs. Streadson flashes them both a sharp smile, as fake as can be. “Of course,” she says, “You’ll forgive me if I overstepped, we’re all just so worried about your Wynonna. All of Purgatory would hate to see her suffer through another episode.” She taps her son’s shoulder a few times as she looks between them, and then lets her sight rest on Wynonna. “You just take it easy, Wynonna. We’re all rooting for your recovery.”  
  
With one more forced smile the woman turns and begins to walk away, pulling her son by the arm behind her. Harris peaks over his shoulder a couple of times to look at them and then the two of them have disappeared down the next aisle. Wynonna sticks up her middle finger and gestures to the spot they just disappeared from, but Gus’s hand is almost instantly covering hers and pushing her hand down.  
  
“That’s enough, Wynonna.” Her tone is firm, a little of the anger she hasn’t entirely been able to shake yet still coloring it, and the girl decides not to fight. She just shrugs, grabs a handful of white construction paper from the shelf behind Gus, and then gives her aunt a look. Gus is already looking away and turning in the opposite direction as Mrs. Streadson and her son, and Wynonna follows her. She tips the M&M packet over a little until a few roll into her palm and then she’s tossing them in the air one at a time, catching one or two while the others all fall to the floor.  
  
Gus grabs a couple more things from the shelves and then the aunt and niece make their way over to the registers. While the cashier rings up their items they both hear murmured voices nearby, and when Wynonna looks out of the corner of her eye she can see Mrs. Streadson huddled with two other local women just two aisles over. Though they are too far away to hear everything being said, Wynonna distinctly hears, “...her own daddy…” whispered, shortly followed by, “...maybe her mother knew, could be why she left…”. It isn’t at all hard to figure out what they’re talking about, and Wynonna has to clench her teeth to keep from screaming. She’s silent as their groceries are bagged, silent as she helps Gus carry them out to the truck, and still silent as the truck pulls back onto the road. Gus is also silent, though her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel tells Wynonna she heard the whispers too. It’s Gus this time who turns up the radio, and as the truck makes its way through Purgatory Black Sabbath blasts through the speakers and the two women try to focus on the music instead of the whispered words still ringing in their ears.  
  
Wynonna finally manages to push Mrs. Streadson’s words to the back of her mind as they pull into the driveway of the McCready ranch, and she looks around as she grabs the backpack that’s been shoved by her feet and gets out of the truck. It snowed at the beginning of December but not since then, so while there’s a little bit of it still on the ground she mostly just sees dead and dying grass. The little snow that is there is more brown and gray than white, and honestly it all just looks kind of depressing. A string of lights are hanging around the rail of the porch but they aren’t turned on at the moment and for some reason that only makes it look worse to Wynonna.  
  
Still, anything is better than St. Victoria’s and their forced holiday cheer, and the familiarity of her aunt and uncle’s home is causing Wynonna’s throat to burn just a little. She swallows the feeling down as she slings her bag over her shoulder, careful not to look at her aunt until she’s sure she’s back in control of herself. When she does she finds Gus pulling two of the bags of groceries out of the back of the truck and moves over to help her.  
  
Between the two of them they’re able to get them all, and then Gus slams the door behind them and leads the way towards the porch. Curtis meets them and holds the front door open and then Wynonna’s once again inside her aunt and uncle’s house, a place almost as familiar to her as the homestead. Stepping inside feels strange, almost like putting on a sweater that shrank in the wash and no longer fits, but she tries to ignore it.  
  
“I can take those,” Curtis tells her as he reaches for one of the plastic bags she’s holding. Just as she’s about to hand it to him a body is running at her, and he just manages to grab it before the body collides with hers.  
  
“Wynonna!” Waverly cries before her arms are around her big sister’s waist and when her body slams into Wynonna’s it almost knocks her over. She catches herself with a hasty step back but Waverly just clings tighter to her and suddenly she’s blinking back tears that are threatening to spill over with no warning.  
  
“Hey there baby girl,” Wynonna says, the words quieter than she necessarily meant them to be. In this moment it feels like she hasn’t taken a full breath for three months and now her lungs are finally working again, even as Waverly’s grip seems to be getting progressively tighter. Her eyes close and she wraps her arms around her baby sister’s shoulders and presses her chin against the top of Waverly’s head, letting the moment settle over her.  
  
Far too soon she has to let the moment pass, Waverly’s head popping up from where her face had been pressing into Wynonna’s sternum. She looks up and the elder Earp sees a couple of tear tracks running down her cheeks but her mouth is turned up into the happiest smile Wynonna thinks she’s ever seen.  
  
“I missed you,” Waverly tells her, her fingers digging lightly into Wynonna’s back. “I’m glad they let you come spend Christmas with us. And soon you’ll be able to stay for good, right? They can’t keep you forever, and then you’ll come live with me here with Gus and Curtis. Won’t you? I miss not living with you. I got all your favorite things from home and put them in your room cuz I know you probably miss them. Right? If you like it maybe they’ll let you stay longer. You could ask them, right?”  
  
Wynonna’s chest is too tight, the hope she can see in big brown eyes making her throat hurt. The part of her that has always needed to make her little sister happy wants to immediately reassure her, to tell her that soon everything will go back to normal and their lives will go on like nothing happened but the words are stuck in her chest. She knows they aren’t true, knows that their lives changed the second Willa was pulled through the window and she doesn’t know how to tell Waverly that. Luckily Curtis steps in before she can find the words that very well might break her sister’s heart.  
  
“Easy there Wave, let your sister breathe a little bit, yeah? She just got here, let her relax a little before you bombard her with questions.” He grins at the youngest Earp, a hand resting gently on her shoulder, and Waverly blushes slightly, looking away in a minor bout of embarrassment.  
  
The tightness in her chest loosening a little now that she isn’t the subject of the conversation, Wynonna holds up the plastic bag that’s still hanging in the crook of her elbow. “Here Waves, Gus said you wanted some craft supplies so we got ya some. You can make your decorations now.” Waverly beams up at her as she takes the bag and Wynonna can’t help but smile back, her own much smaller, and then her thumbs are wiping the tear streaks from Waverly’s cheeks.  
  
Her baby sister doesn’t seem to notice the tear marks in the slightest. “Thanks!” she exclaims, peering quickly into the bag. “I’m gonna make some stars and snowflakes to go on the tree, maybe even some snowmen. Wanna help me?” Those big eyes are staring up at her again but at least this time it’s a little easier to resist them. Wynonna Earp doesn’t craft.  
  
“Not a chance, baby girl.” She flashes Waverly her signature grin, one corner of her mouth tugging up at her. “You’re not getting me that easy.”  
  
Waverly pouts, her bottom lip sticking out and if Wynonna were any weaker she might actually give in, but she doesn’t. Instead she hip-checks her little sister, grin growing when Waverly glares at her. Before either of them can say anything more on the matter Gus jumps in, speaking up from the counter where she’s sorting through the groceries.  
  
“Waverly leave your sister alone. Wynonna, why don’t you go unpack your bag? We’ve got the spare room ready for you upstairs. You’re in the one at the end of the hall on the right, Waverly’s across from you on the left. Now please.” She doesn’t even look up as she turns to put the bag of potatoes in one of the cupboards above the counter.  
  
Waverly sighs, shoots one last wounded look at Wynonna, and then turns to make her way back to the living room, where she must have some craft supplies already set up. Wynonna watches her go for a second, aching to stay in eyesight of her baby sister after being away from her for so long, but being back in this house with her family is making her gut twist and her throat burn so she decides to take the opportunity to be alone. She adjusts the strap of her bag still digging into her shoulder and then heads over to the stairs to make her way to the guest room Gus says is now hers.  
  
Stepping inside the room for the first time, the burning in her throat instantly intensifies. For the most part it looks the same as the many other times she’s stayed in it when visiting her aunt and uncle, but now there are noticeable differences. The blankets hanging off of the bed are her own, ones she’s only ever seen in the homestead before. A couple of posters line the walls, ones that must have been ripped out of her own bedroom, and in the open closet across the room she sees clothes she instantly recognizes as her own. In the center of the bed is an old shoebox, and in the box she finds a few necklaces, a couple of bracelets, the switchblade Daddy gave her on her last birthday, and a small stack of pictures. When she moves closer to it she can see that the one on top is one of her, Waverly, and Willa, taken two years ago. She and Willa are climbing on the fence along the Earp property, Willa sitting on top of it while she’s holding on with one hand and leaning out and waving at the camera with the other. Waverly’s sitting in the grass below them, looking up and smiling at her older sisters, and Wynonna remembers Mama’s matching grin as she took the picture.  
  
It’s all just a little too much after three months of being alone at St. Victoria’s and Wynonna can’t take it. She shoves the box to the side, trying not to look at it again, and swings her bag into the free spot on the bed. Dragging the zipper back she rummages around inside for a few seconds, looking for one thing in particular. She makes a little noise of success when her fingers finally brush against a small rectangle, and then she’s pulling out a pack of cigarettes from the bottom of her bag. A lighter is already waiting inside the carton and Wynonna quickly grabs it and one of the cigarettes, tossing the rest of the pack to the bed. Without a second thought she brings the cigarette to her mouth and flicks the lighter on, and the next moment smoke is filling her lungs and the tension that had been building in her shoulders begins to loosen. Sighing in relief, her eyes close as she slips the lighter in her pocket.  
  
She never used to smoke, but her new roommate introduced it to her about a month ago. As hard as she would think it would be to get something like cigarettes into a psychiatric facility, Donna has a constant supply of them and hasn’t had any problems with sharing. Wynonna would rather she sneak in something truly useful like a bottle of whiskey, but hey, she isn’t going to complain too much. For now she just takes another drag from the cigarette and lets the smoke fill her lungs. She lets it out with a nearly silent sigh as she tries to focus herself and then when her eyes open she moves over to the window on the other side of the room. Opening it, she leans against the frame, staring out at the bleak image of her aunt and uncle’s land and tries not to think about anything as the cold air hits her face.  
  
Thinking about nothing lasts for about as long as it ever has before, and within what seems to be moments her mind is swirling. Even with the medication her doctors make her take she can’t ever seem to shut her brain off and she hates it. Just once she would like to shut her eyes and find nothing but darkness waiting for her, but instead the memories are there and there’s nothing she can do about them. No amount of drugs or electroshock therapy has been able to get rid of them, despite her doctors’ best attempts. Everything that was waiting for her in the room is only making it more difficult to dissociate herself from what happened and before she can stop herself she’s moving back towards the box on her bed. The picture of her sisters is still at the top of the pile and Wynonna grabs it, taking another long drag of her cigarette as she does. She sits on the edge of the bed and stares down at the picture in her hand as slow tendrils of smoke curl into the air.  
  
Willa’s staring off to the side in the picture, looking at something Mama wasn’t able to get on film. Wynonna can’t remember if she ever knew what that was, and knows it’s now lost. Her big sister’s hair was blowing in the wind as Mama snapped the picture, a few strands of the blonde hair covering her face but Wynonna can still make out the features. Something about Willa was always quiet in a way Wynonna has never been able to be, and she stares at it now, wondering if she could maybe learn. Willa was the strong one, she was the smart one, the tough one; being the eldest sister was marked into her very being. She was the hero and Wynonna was always her sidekick even when she hated it, and that’s how it was always supposed to be.  
  
Now Willa’s gone though. She disappeared when the revenants took her that night and no one has seen her since. For the first three weeks at St. Victoria’s Wynonna asked Gus about her every time she visited, but the look on her aunt’s face and the sinking feeling she got in her gut when she answered has stopped her from asking again. Nobody will say it out loud, but Wynonna knows her big sister is dead.  
  
She takes another drag from the cigarette to try to combat against the chunk of lead that now lives in her gut and shifts her focus from one sister to the other in the picture.  
  
The wind is blowing Waverly’s hair out of her face so it’s easy to catch the way she’s smiling up at the two on the fence. There’s an openness to the little girl’s expression Wynonna sees every time she looks at her but hasn’t ever really appreciated so she studies it now. Willa was stillness and quiet, very much like the moon hanging above a silent earth, and Waverly is nothing but pure sunshine. She is brightness and warmth, and Wynonna knows she will do anything she has to to protect that. It’s why she told Gus not to bring Waverly back to St. Victoria’s after her first and only visit; even in just that hour Wynonna could see her little sister shrinking into herself, saw the way her eyes almost never stopped glancing around and felt how tightly she held onto her big sister’s hand. The place had terrified her and that brightness had dimmed, and in that moment Wynonna had known she could never let her come back. Gus had argued later when Wynonna told her not to bring Waverly back and she knew her little sister didn’t understand, but after everything else she’s done, Wynonna refuses to be responsible for Waverly losing her light too.  
  
The last face in the picture is the only one that was looking at the camera, and Wynonna stares at a stranger with her own face. The Wynonna in the image was the middle, the rebel, the one always trying to keep up with her big sister and be there for her little sister. The Wynonna with the smoke in her lungs is different now. Now there is no middle, no big sister to keep up with. Willa is gone, and Wynonna’s the eldest Earp and she feels like a fraud. Crazy has replaced middle in her description, and killer rolls right on its heels. How can she expect anyone to look up to her?  
  
“Why’d you have to drop the gun?” she hears herself ask, voice a little scratchy and she’s not sure if it’s from the smoke or emotion quickly building in her chest. She stares at the image of Willa, entirely ignored. “You were supposed to be the Earp heir, supposed to be the best. How could you drop it?” There’s no venom in her voice, no blame really, until she shifts back over to the stranger’s face. Her grip tightens and the picture crumples slightly where she’s holding it but she doesn’t notice as she glares at her younger self. “And why’d you have to pick it up? What were you gonna do with it? You always just, just make things worse.”  
  
Her image just continues to grin up at her, trapped forever in that happy moment. Fire ripples around the lead in her gut and if not for the others in the picture Wynonna would hold her lighter up to the corner of the image and watch it burn. Her sisters save her, and she wonders just how long that can last now that one’s gone and the other is so far away. How much longer will Willa and Waverly be able to rescue her?  
  
“Wynonna! Dinner’s ready. Let’s go, wash up!”  
  
Curtis’s voice breaks through the moment and Wynonna has to blink slowly to pull herself back entirely into the present. Her cigarette has nearly burnt out so she gets up and moves back to the windowsill, snuffing it out against the wood before dropping the butt out the window. She’s still holding the picture and hesitates for a second before folding it in half and slipping it into her back pocket.  
  
“Wynonna!”  
  
“I’m coming!” she shouts, rolling her eyes. Moving a little more quickly now she grabs the pack of cigarettes from where they’re still lying on the bed and shoves them into a pocket as well, far enough down so that her aunt and uncle won’t see them.  
  
As she bounds down the stairs she can hear movement in the kitchen and knows Gus must be just finishing up with whatever she’s made for dinner. Around the corner there’s more movement, and then she hears Uncle Curtis say, “Come on Waverly, dinner’s ready. Time to get-” He cuts himself off abruptly and Wynonna frowns at the sudden silence. At the bottom of the stairs she turns towards the living room where she knows Waverly has been working on her decorations rather than make her way to the kitchen, curious.  
  
Curtis is standing in the doorway of the living room staring in, and Wynonna can see the surprise in his expression even as his cheeks quickly begin to turn pink. An eyebrow quirking up, she goes over to him, asking, “What’s up, Uncle Curtis? You look like you just saw two ghosts getting it on.” She squeezes by him, grinning at her own joke, but when she sees what he was staring at her eyes widen and her jaw drops open.  
  
Waverly is grinning up at them from her spot on the floor, scraps of paper scattered around her. Also beside her is the box of tampons Gus just bought Wynonna, lying open with two still-wrapped tampons sticking out of it. The rest have been unwrapped and look to have been glued together into the form of a tiny absorbent torso and attached to a wad of cotton for a skirt. A few of the tampons have been glued to construction paper wings, and a little wooden ball completes the image, a bright red smiley face drawn on what is clearly meant to be the head. Waverly’s proudly holding the monstrocity up, beaming with pride.  
  
“Look!” she exclaims, holding it up higher as though they aren’t both already staring at it in shock, “I made an angel for the top of the Christmas tree!” She points to where a large decorated tree stands in the corner of the room, one that Wynonna can see already has an angel sitting at its top. An angel whose body is most definitely not as absorbent as Waverly’s.  
  
“Uh, Waverly,” Curtis begins to say, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. His face has only turned redder the longer they’ve been standing here, and now his eyes are darting around the room, as though he wishes he could look anywhere but at the tampon angel.  
  
Wynonna can’t help it; she bursts out laughing with no warning, the feeling instantly bubbling up from her gut and breaking free. Within seconds she’s doubled over, leaning hard against the doorway to try to keep herself from falling over but it’s a near thing when she gets another glance at what has become of her tampons. Waverly frowns as she laughs, uncertain as she looks from her big sister to her angel, but Wynonna can’t catch her breath long enough to explain why this is so funny. Every time she thinks she’s about to get control of herself she catches sight of the strings hanging out of the bottom of the angel’s skirt and the laughter starts all over again.  
  
“What is going on?” Gus demands suddenly from behind them. She’s got her hands on her hips and is glaring from her husband to her oldest niece but even that isn’t enough to get Wynonna to stop. “You’re all supposed to be getting ready for dinner, not be in here laughing at-... oh.”  
  
Gus has clearly caught sight of Waverly’s decoration now too, and Wynonna bites her cheek to try to get control of herself. Her abs hurt from laughing so hard but she’s still grinning and actually has to wipe a tear or two from her eyes as she looks from her aunt to her sister. Waverly looks up at Gus with her big eyes and presents her angel more timidly now but tries to give their aunt a small smile.  
  
“I made an angel for the tree,” she tells her and Gus shakes her head, though Wynonna can see the corners of her mouth twitch as though she’s fighting back her own smile.  
  
“I see that Waverly, but those weren’t decorations for you to play with.” Her tone is gentle but firm and Waverly shrinks beneath it, looking down and hunching into herself. Wynonna notices and immediately moves into action.  
  
“No worries baby girl, it’s better like this,” she says easily, moving over and slinging an arm over Waverly’s shoulders. She takes the angel, biting back another bout of laughter, and holds it up as though she were comparing it to the one on the tree. “I think your menstrangel is helluva lot better than the one we’ve already got. Really absorbs the holiday cheer.” She grins at her own joke, and then looks back at their aunt and uncle in the doorway. “I am gonna need more tampons though.”  
  
Gus looks like she’s about to say something, reconsiders it, and then shakes her head. “Curtis will go get you more after dinner. For now both of you wash up, dinner’s getting cold.”  
  
“Okay,” Waverly agrees instantly, taking her angel back to toss it onto the couch before she grabs her sister’s hand. She pulls Wynonna out of the room behind her, and as they pass the adults Wynonna hears Curtis mutter, “Not sure why I gotta go get those things.”  
  
“You’re living in a house full of women now Curtis, time to get used to it,” Gus just informs him, no sympathy at all in her voice and Wynonna bites her lip to keep from grinning as her uncle sighs heavily but just nods. Waverly’s already off on something else as she drags Wynonna towards the bathroom, the menstrangel forgotten, and the older sister just shakes her head.  
  
Waverly’s fingers tighten around hers and Wynonna grips right back, ready to be dragged wherever her baby sister wants to take her. No matter how many of her tampons she decides to turn into her art projects along the way. She may not know who she is anymore now that she isn’t the middle, but this - following Waverly, holding her hand - is something she’s always known how to do, probably the one thing she’ll never forget.


	6. Chapter 6

On any given evening Shorty’s is packed, bodies at every table and lining along the bar. Wynonna used to come in every now and then with her sisters and Mama, oftentimes to pick up Daddy after he’d had too many shots of whiskey to drive home. At those times it was loud, hard to hear anything over the sound of so many people talking and shouting, especially when music also poured from the speakers. There was always a wild energy about the place that Wynonna thrived on and would get her heart racing. She could imagine herself at the bar in a few years, pressed against her older sister and grinning as they go shot for shot to see who gets sick first. It’s one of many fantasies that at one time were supposed to be a given, a future just around the corner, but has now disintegrated into ashes.  
  
At the moment though, Wynonna isn’t thinking about those old fantasies. Shorty’s isn’t hectic, the energy that she usually thinks of as wild is tame, and the space is quiet. Some old country music plays from the speakers but the volume is low, easy to talk over. An hour ago she’d tried to change the station to something harder so she could blare the music, but Shorty had threatened to cut off her fingers as he wiped down a few glasses, so nonchalantly that she actually believed him. Since then she has stayed away from the radio and he brought her an order of nachos, so she figures they both got something out of the interaction.  
  
Shorty and Curtis have disappeared downstairs to take inventory and Wynonna has been left with her nachos and Waverly. There are three men sitting at one of the tables and casually drinking the beers Shorty placed in front of them before leaving, but other than that the bar is empty. For the most part the men are quiet, just chatting amongst themselves, but every now and then Wynonna can feel them watching her. The hairs sticking up on the back of her neck is a common sensation now, she has people watching her wherever she goes, so she does her best to ignore it and gives all of her attention to her nachos and her baby sister as Waverly lines up her pool stick with the cue ball.  
  
“Don’t miss.” The words come out through a mouthful of cheese, chili, and chips, and maybe a few little pieces of food fall to the floor, but Wynonna just grins as Waverly gives her a glare from where she’s bent over the pool table. She’s just tall enough to reach over it, though the way she’s reaching out with her pool stick tells the older girl another few inches would sure make this shot easier for her, but she’s not going to say anything. In true Earp fashion Waverly is stubbornly set on completing this shot, and if it doesn’t work that will only help Wynonna so she just leans against the table behind her and shoves another chip into her mouth.  
  
Waverly takes another couple of seconds to try to line up her shot and then shoots and the cue ball goes soaring down the length of the table, missing the ball she’d been aiming for by at least a couple of inches. Wynonna snorts, the corners of her lips still turned up, and Waverly lets out a noise of frustration. It’s high pitched and a little pitiful, and Wynonna can’t help but snort again.  
  
“The game works better when you hit the balls, Wave,” she reminds her, purposefully rubbing salt in her little sister’s wound. Waverly sticks out her tongue in retaliation and Wynonna isn’t too mature to do the same thing right back.  
  
“It’s your turn,” Waverly mumbles when her sister doesn’t immediately move back into the game. She walks around the table to the plate of nachos the other girl is chowing down, quickly stealing a couple before Wynonna can half-heartedly swat her hand away. With her prize in hand she flashes a grin up at the older girl and stuffs the chips into her mouth, taking what small victories she can.  
  
Wynonna links her fingers together and stretches her arms out in front of her as she dramatically cracks her neck. “Alright, let me show you how it’s really done,” she says before grabbing her stick from where it was leaning up against the table beside her. Waverly’s eyes roll as Wynonna studies the table for a moment and then takes her time to line up her next shot. She strikes and the cue ball streaks down the table to hit another, and the ball rolls right into one of the corner pockets. She sinks a second ball and can practically hear Waverly’s teeth gritting; her sister is nearly as competitive as she is, she just hides it better, and Wynonna knows that losing this game is aggravating her. Unfortunately she misses her next shot and has to step away from the table, but the glare on Waverly’s face as she struts back to the table where her nachos are is absolutely worth it. Waverly lets out a little huff and then hurries back to the table, eyes scanning its surface as she tries to figure out what her best shot is, and Wynonna goes back to stuffing nachos in her mouth, her cocky grin ever-present.  
  
They each get to shoot a few more times, Waverly managing to sink two balls while Wynonna sinks another three, before an overly optimistic shot from the younger Earp sends the eight ball into one of the pockets ahead of schedule and the game is suddenly over. If it were possible there would be flames coming out of Waverly’s eyes and the entire table would be instantly incinerated, but instead she just gives it a truly impressive glare. Wynonna lets out a whoop, pumping her fist into the air, and then bounds to the far side of the table where two five dollar bills are laying. She picks them both up and wiggles her eyebrows at her little sister and dangles them in the air between them.  
  
“Good game there baby girl, thanks for the cash,” she taunts as she wiggles her fingers at Waverly. “Play again, want a chance to win your money back?”  
  
“Wynonna quit hustlin’ your sister outta her allowance,” Curtis cuts in as he comes through the door from the basement, a case of liquor in his arms. Shorty’s right behind him with another case, and there’s a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips but he doesn’t look over at the two Earp girls, just heads over to the bar.  
  
“What?” Wynonna asks, trying to play innocent with her uncle. “This is how W-” She pauses a moment, realizing what she was going to say, and then swallows thickly and continues on as though she never stopped. “-Willa taught me. It’s Earp tradition. You know how much of my money she took from me?”  
  
Mentioning the missing - and most likely dead, though no one will say that - girl always makes everyone uncomfortable, and this moment isn’t any different. Curtis averts his eyes and places his case down on the bar before beginning to pull the bottles of booze out and set them down and Wynonna knows he isn’t going to say anything else. She’s moving around the table and pulling the balls out from the pockets to re-rack when Shorty comes over and grabs the empty nacho plate from the table.  
  
“‘Nother plate of nachos you two?” he asks and they’re both already nodding enthusiastically as Curtis calls, “No way, Gus’ll skin me alive if they aren’t hungry for dinner.”  
  
“Aww c’mon Curtis, it’s just one more plate,” Wynonna groans. “And we’re splitting it, so it’s not even like it’s a whole one.”  
  
“Please Uncle Curtis?” Waverly pleads, turning her big eyes on their uncle. He’s as powerless to say no to them as Wynonna usually is, so though he stands strong for another few seconds in the end he gives in with a defeated sigh.  
  
“Just make it a small order, got it Shorty? And if Gus comes after me I’m sicking her on you next.”  
  
“Sure, whatever you say Curtis,” Shorty tells him even as he winks at the two girls and they grin back. Nodding towards the front door, he looks at Wynonna and says, “While I’m putting this together, you should go check out my new bike outside. Think you’re gonna like it.”  
  
Along with being co-owners of the bar, Shorty and Curtis share a love for motorcycles, and it’s a passion that Wynonna’s quickly picking up as well.  
  
Wynonna’s eyes go wide, suddenly even more excited than she was a moment ago about the nachos, which honestly is saying a lot. “You got a new one? Seriously?” He just nods but she doesn’t even wait for the response, has already turned around and is making a beeline for the door. Waverly is only a few steps behind her, though her excitement doesn’t come even close to matching up with her sister’s. Curtis is saying something behind them, presumably to Shorty, but Wynonna doesn’t hear it with all of her focus already turned to what’s waiting outside.  
  
Barging through the front door, Wynonna’s eyes go wide and her grin grows. The bike parked right out front is a Suzuki VX800 and needs a little TLC, sure, but it’s still beautiful with its black paint job. The seat needs to be reupholstered, various strips of gray duct tape covering what she imagines are tears, but she can see past that to the beauty Shorty is going to turn her into. With a squeal of delight she rushes over to it and throws a leg over until she’s straddling the seat and then her fingers are wrapped around the handlebars and her eyes close. She can practically feel the wind ripping at her hair as she imagines racing down the road on this beautiful beast.  
  
“Hello gorgeous,” she murmurs, leaning closer to the bike and rubbing her thumb against the grip. “Damn, what’d Shorty do to deserve you?”  
  
“It’s just a bike. It’s not that special.” Waverly stands beside the bike, her arms crossed over her front and rolling her eyes.  
  
“Don’t listen to her, baby.” Wynonna pats the handlebars fondly as she coos to the bike. “She just doesn’t understand you the way I do. I’m gonna love ya forever.”  
  
“It’s not your bike, Wynonna. It’s Shorty’s.” Waverly’s a stickler for facts and that one is really bumming Wynonna out, so she ignores it. Even if it’s true, Shorty has always seemed to like her, she’s sure he’ll take her out for a ride in the spring once he’s got it all fixed up. Adrenaline pumps through her veins just at the thought of riding this beauty and she suddenly can’t wait for the day she’ll be able to drive one herself. It’s only a couple more years and then she really can have a bike all her own. Maybe even this one, if she plays her cards right and manages to stay in Shorty’s good graces.  
  
She’s still on the bike, imagining what life will be like when she has the freedom of her own bike, when she hears laughing. Breaking out of the fantasy she turns and sees Skip and Cam walking towards them, two boys the same age as her. She hasn’t seen them in a couple of months since she’s been doing all her schoolwork through St. Victoria’s since being admitted, but she immediately recognizes them. Skip’s always been kind of an idiot and Cam has never been much brighter but she’s never really had any problems with them.  
  
The way they’re smirking at her and laughing, she has a feeling that’s about to change. Her grip on the handlebars tightens.  
  
“What’re you doing here, Wynonna? Thought they locked you up for shooting your daddy?” It’s Skip who says it, the two boys sauntering towards her, and Wynonna’s already thinking about how good it would feel to punch him even as she just glares from on top of the bike.  
  
“Shut up, Skip.” There’s an obvious warning in her tone, one that makes Waverly’s arms fall back down to her sides as she looks between her sister and the two boys, but neither of them seem to notice it.  
  
“Yeah Skip, at least get your facts right,” Cam tells him, a smug grin on his face. “She wasn’t locked up because she shot the sheriff, she was locked up because she thinks demons did it.” He looks at Wynonna with a mock sense of sympathy, just the very corners of his mouth twitching. “Let me guess, they were big and red and shot fire out of their mouths, right? What about horns?”  
  
“That’s not what they look like!” Wynonna snaps, gripping the handlebars so tightly she can feel the material biting into her palms. “You watch too much TV, idiot. They’re revenants, they look just like regular people. No horns or tails or anything dumb like that.”  
  
Cam and Skip share a look, their eyebrows rising, and then they’re both laughing.  
  
“Shit, you really are crazy,” Cam says, shaking his head. “How the hell did the crazy bin let you out?”  
  
Impulse control has never been one of Wynonna’s strong suits, and this moment is no exception. With anger tingling at her fingertips she pushes herself off of the bike, prepared to beat the shit out of both of them, but Waverly obviously noticed where this was going and has moved quicker. Before Wynonna can entirely close the distance between herself and the two assholes Waverly’s grabbed her arm, giving it a little tug to pull her back.  
  
“Come on Wynonna, they’re not worth it. Let’s go back inside. Shorty probably has our nachos ready.” It’s the promise of food and not wanting to upset her sister that forces Wynonna to try to let go of her anger. She gives the two boys another harsh glare and then flips them off, and then turns around and starts to make her way back towards the bar.  
  
“It’s too bad nobody’s been able to find Willa,” Skip says, and she can practically hear his shrug. “Then we’d all really know what happened.”  
  
“Maybe Wynonna really did snap,” Cam suggests. “Maybe she killed her too. Probably buried her someplace before the cops showed up and just wasn’t able to get rid of her daddy’s body too. I guess the demons weren’t big enough to help her with his body, but Willa’s-”  
  
He never finishes the thought. Waverly’s grip on her arm loosens the second he mentions Willa and Wynonna doesn’t know if she’s in shock or if Cam crossed a line even Waverly can’t forgive, but it loosens and Wynonna’s moving before anyone can process it. Her fist slams into Cam’s nose and she can feel the crunch more than hear it as it breaks, but it does absolutely nothing to calm her down.  
  
“You fucking shitbag!” she screams, her fury clouding her vision. All she can see at the moment is Cam, bright red now running down his chin and his eyes wide in shock, and all she wants is to hit him again. “Fucking asshole, say that again! Say her name again!”  
  
It’s a challenge he doesn’t have time to take or reject. Her fists are already moving again and he has to jump back to avoid them. Wynonna hears someone shout and then feels hands on her and out of the corner of her eye sees Skip. He’s trying to pull her away but doesn’t have any luck; she learned how to fight from both of her parents and doesn’t have to think about it, just automatically turns to slam an elbow into his side.  
  
She gets another couple of good shots in until Cam and Skip apparently decide they can fight a girl if she’s intent on kicking the living shit out of them, and then their fists and elbows are flying too. She catches an elbow at the side of her mouth and feels the corner break open, can taste the blood, but the iron only manages to fuel the roaring of the fire burning in her chest. Between flying limbs she catches sight of her little sister on the edge of the fight, her fists moving too and fingers grabbing at the back of Cam’s shirt. When he turns to shove her back instead Wynonna grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks it as hard as she can, jerking him towards her. He hisses and strikes out, the back of his hand slamming into her cheek but Wynonna just winces and doesn’t let go.  
  
“Crazy bitch!” Skip shouts, looking honestly surprised as her foot slams into the back of his knee. “What the hell is wrong with you?”  
  
“You said it, I’m crazy,” Wynonna grunts as one of Cam’s arms wrap around her neck. Despite the poor position she’s now in, she smirks at Skip standing in front of her and winks. “You shouldn’t try to mess with us loonies.” Using a move her mama taught her and Willa only a few months before she was taken away, Wynonna brings her heel down on Cam’s foot with all her might, the force enough to do some damage even through his boots. At the same time she digs her elbow into his side harshly and he’s swearing even as his grip on her loosens.  
  
“Bitch!” Cam wheezes, one hand going to his side as he stumbles back. Within seconds he’s swinging at her again and the three of them are once again stuck in a mess of limbs as the fight continues. Waverly’s at the edge of it, her fists flying as well, but Wynonna is just as likely to push her away from the entangled mass as either of the boys.  
  
“That’s enough!”  
  
The voice booms only feet away from them and they all finally stop, Wynonna’s fingers tangled up in Skip’s shirt and Cam’s fingers holding a tight grip on her hair that has her wincing. Officer - scratch that - _Sheriff_ Nedley is standing next to Shorty’s bike, his mouth pulled together in a sharp line. His eyes glitter dangerously as he looks between the four of them, and Cam is quick to pull away. Skip tries to follow but Wynonna hasn’t loosened her grip on his shirt yet, despite the fact that all her attention is now on Nedley. She glares at him, as if daring him to come near her. If he does, she’ll be happy to punch him too, no matter what kind of trouble it puts her in.  
  
“Let ‘im go, Wynonna,” Nedley tells her, his voice a little low, and she debates it for a moment. The last thing she wants to do is listen to him, but finally she releases her grip and shoves Skip away from her. He stumbles back, bumping into Cam and both of the boys look between Wynonna and the sheriff, obviously more intimidated by the man with the badge than they are of the chick who just kicked the crap out of them. Nedley holds Wynonna’s gaze for another few seconds and then lets his eyes fall on the two boys. “You two get outta here, and don’t let me catch you doing anything like this again. You won’t like it if I do.”  
  
Neither Cam or Skip say anything. Skip just nods once and then the two turn around and are off, putting as much distance between themselves and the sheriff as they can. Out of the corner of her eye Wynonna notices they’re both limping a little, and one corner of her mouth twitches up. Unfortunately it’s the corner that was split at the beginning of the fight so it ends in a wince, and then her tongue is poking at the split, iron quickly coating it. Even as the pain flares up she maintains eye contact with Nedley, refusing to look away.  
  
After a long moment of stillness, the sheriff jerks his head towards the bar’s entrance. “Come on.” He shifts but doesn’t otherwise move, waiting for the girls to go first, and finally Wynonna rolls her eyes and then stalks to the door, Waverly right behind her.  
  
Only the three men from earlier are visible as they step back inside, which at least explains why neither Curtis nor Shorty heard the fight. All three of them watch the girls enter with the sheriff right behind them from the corners of their eyes, and Wynonna sees one of them shake his head before hauling off a sip of his beer. She pretends not to notice any of them and makes her way across the room. A fresh plate of nachos is sitting on the same table the old plate was and Wynonna makes her way right to them, quickly shoving a loaded chip into her mouth as she takes a seat. Sauce and salt sting at the split in her lip but she helps herself to a second one anyway. Fighting always makes her hungry, and she’s never been one to ignore a plate of nachos no matter the circumstance. Waverly sits at the table beside her but doesn’t eat, just stares up at her sister worriedly and Wynonna gives her a half grin.  
  
“You know I’ll eat all these. You want any you better dig in.” Waverly hesitates for a moment, biting her lip as her eyes trail across Wynonna’s face, likely taking stock of all her bruises, but she doesn’t say anything about them. Instead she reaches out and just before she can get it Wynonna grabs the chip she was clearly going for, one loaded high with cheese and beef. She stuffs the chip into her mouth, still smirking at her sister. “Gotta be faster than that, baby girl.” Waverly rolls her eyes but her lips curl up into a small smile and then she’s eating, only now and then stealing glances at Wynonna’s injuries.  
  
While they begin to eat, Sheriff Nedley looks around the room and then makes his way to the bar. “Curtis? Shorty?” he calls loudly towards the kitchen, and a moment later Shorty strolls out, carrying two baskets of mozzarella sticks.  
  
“Sheriff, little early for you i’nt it?” he asks, nodding to him as he passes and makes his way to the three men. It isn’t until he’s placed the baskets on their table and turned that he sees the Earp girls and the moment he does his expression shifts, worry and then amusement flashing across his face. “Ah. Got it. Hold on.” He goes to the door that leads to the basement, poking his head through and yells, “Curtis! You best get up here.”  
  
“Thanks Shorty,” Nedley says, tipping his hat to the bar owner and Shorty just shakes his head. Taking another look at the two girls at the table, he shakes his head again and tells Wynonna, “I’ll go grab you something cold to put on your face. You’re gonna need it.”  
  
“‘M fine,” she mumbles through a mouthful of chips but he disappears back into the kitchen anyway, ignoring her entirely.  
  
Neither of the Earps say anything as they wait for their uncle, just keep digging into the nachos, and Wynonna does her damnedest to completely ignore the fact that the sheriff is still there, watching her. He’s removed his hat and placed it on the bar in front of him, and his fingers are tapping against its brim. She figures he’s trying to look casual with the way he’s leaning against the bar but she can feel his eyes on her. Being watched has become part of her everyday life now but being watched by him makes her blood boil, and she shoves chips into her mouth to try to distract herself so that she doesn’t start trying to punch him. Beside her Waverly just munches on the chips, taking small bites, but her eyes never stop moving, constantly looking back and forth between Wynonna and Nedley. She scoots her chair a little closer to her big sister and Wynonna responds by placing a foot up on one of the stretchers at the bottom of the chair. It’s a miniscule movement that to anyone else probably wouldn’t mean anything, but Wynonna can see some of the stress release from Waverly’s shoulders at the reminder she’s right there.  
  
Muffled thudding breaks the quiet tension and then Uncle Curtis makes his way into the room, pulling the door to the basement shut behind him. He wipes his hands on his pants and smiles at Nedley without looking at either of his nieces.  
  
“Hey there sheriff. What can I do for you?”  
  
Nedley nods towards the Earp girls. “Not exactly here for me, Curtis. I was heading on back to the station when I came across Wynonna and a couple of boys getting into it.”  
  
Wynonna meets her uncle’s eyes defiantly as he looks at her. His eyes widen and then his forehead creases, his lips turning down. “Wynonna, what-”  
  
“It wasn’t her fault!” Waverly cuts in, jumping to her sister’s defense. “Cam and Skip started it. They were, they were…” She frowns as she searches for the right words, and then her expression brightens when she finds them. “They were being shit-tickets, they deserved it!”  
  
Curtis and Nedley’s brows go up, but Wynonna practically chokes on her nachos as she snorts, fully impressed with her sister’s choice. It’s a term their mama used to use a lot but Wynonna’s never heard Waverly say it before, and she kinda loves it.  
  
“Nice,” she says, holding out her hand for a high five, and Waverly grins at her as she returns it.  
  
Curtis isn’t nearly as impressed with Waverly’s choice of words as Wynonna, if the way he rubs at his temple is anything to go by. He ignores it for now in favor of giving the older girl a look instead. “You got into a fight with Cam and Skip? Why?” As he’s talking Shorty comes back in with a bag of ice wrapped in a clean dish cloth and hands it to Wynonna who just shrugs.  
  
“They were being douchebags, like Waverly said. They got what they deserved.” She winces again as she presses the ice to the corner of her mouth and suddenly wonders how many other cuts and bruises she has. Her sides are both sore and so is her upper left arm, and she’s sure she’ll find a plethora of bruises speckled along her torso when she gets back to the ranch and can see all the damage she took. She’s sure she’s been in worse fights before, but in the past she almost always had Willa fighting alongside her to watch her back. Waverly tried to help, sure, but her little sister doesn’t have Willa’s right hook, and she’s too little to really be fighting anyway.  
  
“You can’t just go punching people, Wynonna,” Curtis tells her but Wynonna isn’t listening. She’ll punch anyone who talks about Willa like those idiots did, and that’s not going to change.  
  
Over at the bar Nedley clears his throat loudly, getting everyone’s attention. “Curtis, could I talk to you for a second?” Uncle Curtis lets out a long sigh and nods, but glances back over at his nieces. “Finish up with those nachos,” he tells them as he moves over to join the sheriff at the bar. “We’re heading home soon as the sheriff and I finish talking.”  
  
There’s still some residual anger from the fight pumping through Wynonna’s veins, and the comment simply makes it flare hotter. She wants to tell Curtis that it’s not her home, not unless he means they’re going to the homestead, but the words remain locked in the back of her throat. She hasn’t been back there since Nedley hauled her away in the back of his cruiser and she isn’t entirely sure she’ll ever be ready to go back. Even so it’s home - or maybe she just wishes it still was - and the McCready ranch isn’t. She shoves another chip into her mouth to help keep it all locked inside and instead turns her attention to eavesdropping. Luckily it’s quiet enough in the bar it isn’t exactly hard to do, even if her uncle and Nedley are talking quietly.  
  
“I’m sorry about this, Nedley,” Curtis says, shaking his head. “Gus and I’ll talk to Wynonna, try to figure out what happened and keep it from happening again.”  
  
“I know it’s tough, Curtis.” Nedley pats his arm once, sympathetically. “You’ve all been thrown into this thing head first, you and Gus are doing the best you can.” Wynonna thinks maybe he steals a glance at them, but she’s purposefully focused on the dwindling plate of nachos and can’t be sure. “That all being said, it might be better if you kept Wynonna at the ranch. I know she’s headed back to St. Victoria’s day after tomorrow, but until then making sure she stays at home might just be best for everyone. People don’t quite know what to make of this all yet, and until they do it might just be easier for Wynonna to keep her outta the limelight. Keep her outta trouble, you know.”  
  
Curtis lets out another sigh and rubs the back of his neck, but nods. “No, you’re right, it’s all still new to everyone. It probably would be better to keep her away from people until they’ve had time to move on.”  
  
“Exactly,” Nedley agrees, knocking the top of the bar with two knuckles. Wynonna can see he’s smiling as he settles his hat back on his head and all she wants to do is to smack it away. “This’ll all blow over sooner or later. This is Purgatory after all, somethin’ else’ll happen to take people’s attention away from your family.” He tips his hat towards Curtis as the other man agrees, and then turns away from the bar. Looking back over to the girls’ table, he makes eye contact with Wynonna and his expression once again turns serious. “Try to stay outta trouble from now on, Wynonna.”  
  
“Can’t help what I’m good at.” It’s low and there’s an edge to her voice, maybe something like a challenge, and she looks away. Even just looking at Nedley makes her want to hit things, so she turns back to her nachos instead.  
  
“There’s plenty of other things to be good at. Find one before you end up in some kind of trouble you can’t walk away from.” He tips his hat to their table and then leaves. Wynonna watches him go, a cold fury burning in the pit of her stomach. She hates Sheriff Nedley, and if she was really as crazy as everyone says she is she would run after him and start throwing punches all over again. Instead she just watches him go. 

***

It’s no surprise to any of them when Gus sees Wynonna’s face and immediately demands to know what happened. Curtis explains what he can, looking over at Wynonna to fill in the gaps to the story he isn’t quite sure of, but she just stares stubbornly at her aunt, arms crossed over her chest. When she simply states once again that the fight was due to the douchbaggery of the two boys without further explanation her aunt sends her to her room, her fist shaking with anger as she points towards the stairs. Wynonna goes with her chin sticking out stubbornly, as though the fact she’s obviously not getting any real dinner tonight doesn’t phase her in the least. The two plates of nachos should hold her over until the morning, she figures. This punishment is nothing compared to the beatings Daddy used to give her whenever she pissed him off and wasn’t fast enough to hide before he could catch her or Willa could talk him out of it, so she goes without arguing.  
  
A couple of hours later Wynonna’s sitting at her open window, a lit cigarette tucked between her lips as she stares ahead of her without seeing. She’s thinking about Cam and Skip still, about what they said about Willa, and wondering for the thousandth time what actually happened to her sister when she hears footsteps tramping up the stairs. Quickly she grabs the cigarette and grinds it out against the window frame. She tosses it outside and hopes the cold air is enough to dilute the smell of the smoke, and then looks over as her door opens. Gus stands in the doorway looking at her and Wynonna stares back defiantly.  
  
After a long moment of silence her aunt crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe. One eyebrow ticks up in that annoyingly impressive way Wynonna wants to master.  
  
“So. Cam and Skip.”  
  
“They’re assholes, yeah, we know that already.” Wynonna rolls her eyes and Gus purses her lips.  
  
“Maybe they are, but that doesn’t mean you get to just punch it outta them, Wy. You’re lucky Nedley didn’t do anything other than just stop the fight.”  
  
Wynonna looks back out the window, glaring. “Nedley can kiss my ass.”  
  
Gus pushes away from the doorframe and steps into the room, her expression just as pissed as Wynonna’s.  
  
“That ain’t how this is gonna work, Wynonna,” she says. “That’s enough of the fights, enough of the swearin’. You’re living in my house now, and I ain’t gonna stand for it.”  
  
Wynonna scoffs, looking back over her shoulder at her aunt. “I don’t live here. In two days you’re sending me back to that shithole, wiping your hands clean of me. Why should I listen to you now?”  
  
Guilt briefly flashes across her aunt’s face, but Gus is quick to push it away. She shakes her head and one hand goes to her hip, but she doesn’t look away from her niece. “St. Victoria’s isn’t a shithole and you know it. It’s a good facility, and the doctors there are just trying to help you.”  
  
“I don’t need their help!” Wynonna shouts, because she’s just so tired of everyone thinking she does. She jumps up and faces her aunt, her hands now clenched into fists and hanging at her side. “All these stupid meds, stupid doctors and therapists! I’m not crazy!”  
  
“You do need their help, Wynonna,” Gus tells her. There’s anger in her voice but pain and worry too, and it just gets under Wynonna’s skin more. “Until you realize it was just a group of men who were at the homestead that night, just normal human men, you need their help.”  
  
“They weren’t human!” It erupts from Wynonna, uncontrollable. For months now she’s had people poking and prodding at her and talking circles around her, trying to convince her she’s crazy. They’ve shoved pills of all shapes and sizes down her throat, stuck her arms with needles, even strapped her down and ran electrical currents through her brain, all in an attempt to get her to believe everything her daddy told her her entire life is a lie. Every time she tries to tell someone just how real the revenants are they shake their head and look at her as though she’s something that should be pitied, and the absolute worst part of it all is a tiny voice in her brain has started to wonder if they’re all right. Dozens of voices have called her crazy, loony, batshit, and she absolutely hates that she’s started to wonder if it’s true. She can’t believe it though, refuses to listen to the whisper in her mind, and now throws all of her fury at those voices at her aunt. “Revenants are real, demons are real, and they dragged Willa out the window! When Daddy tried to save her they got him too! It’s all real and I know it, even if you don’t!”  
  
Gus’s nostrils flare, her eyes boring into Wynonna. “Goddamn Ward Earp. He deserves to rot in hell for all he did!” There’s venom in her tone, and it and what she said causes Wynonna to pause, her eyes widening. Her aunt’s hands shake in fury. “He did this to you. Just like he did it to your Mama. He believed in all these demon tales and then forced it on you, on all of you, made you all believe it too. I hope he rots!”  
  
“Don’t talk about my daddy like that,” Wynonna hisses, taking a threatening step towards Gus. “He wasn’t crazy either. He knew demons are real and it’s up to the Earp heir to send ‘em back to hell! That’s the Earp curse!”  
  
“There is no curse Wynonna!” Gus shouts, throwing her hands up in the air. “Willa wasn’t any heir and you ain’t one now! You were both just regular girls that woulda lead a regular life if your daddy hadn’t filled your heads with these damn stories! Now Willa’s gone and you’re-”  
  
“Batshit crazy, right? Well I don’t care if you or anyone else believes me, I know it’s all real! So you can all just kiss my crazy ass!”  
  
The two stand in the middle of the room for a few seconds, staring each other down. Gus’s teeth are clenched and Wynonna’s hands are still curled into fists, and now it’s as though they’re stuck in a silent battle of wills. It’s easy to see neither are going to back down and Wynonna’s silently trying to prepare herself for the next round when Gus takes a step back, somehow standing even straighter.  
  
“Take your meds and go to bed, Wynonna.” Her voice is clipped and then she turns around and leaves without another word. The door slams behind her as she goes and Wynonna glares at it, thinking that there’s no way in hell she’s going to be swallowing any pills, not without someone’s hand forcing them down her throat. Instead she shoves a hand into her pocket and grabs her carton of cigarettes, taking one of the last ones out as well as the lighter, and quickly lights it up. She’s inhaling a lungful of smoke only seconds after her aunt has disappeared and it’s really just the knowledge that it would piss her off even more if she knew about it that begins to help her calm down.  
  
Gus isn’t gone for even a minute though when her door opens again, and for a split second she thinks about snuffing out the cigarette in the hopes of hiding it, but that thought barely even crosses her mind before she dismisses it. Let her aunt or uncle find her smoking, she couldn’t give two fucks what they think at this point.  
  
It isn’t either of them who poke their head through the open crack of the door however, and when Wynonna sees Waverly she almost wishes she had put the cigarette out. Her little sister makes a face when she sees the smoke curling from the cigarette held between her fingers but she pushes the door open further, slipping inside the room.  
  
“Those are gross,” she says, kicking the door shut behind her with her heel. Wynonna just shrugs and takes another haul off of it, turning and moving back over to the window. She leans against it, looking out at the night sky. Cold winter air blows in from the open window, but she’s overheated from her fight with her aunt and it feels good against her hot skin.  
  
Behind her she can hear Waverly moving, first shifting nervously and then there’s a creak and she knows her sister’s made herself at home by sitting on the end of her bed. Wynonna rolls her eyes and crosses one arm over her chest to grasp the opposite arm. “What do you want, Waverly?”  
  
“Nothing.” Wynonna rolls her eyes again, knowing that can’t be true, but doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t look anywhere but out the window as she finishes her cigarette, listening to the quiet outdoors and small shifts in the bedsprings whenever Waverly moves behind her. Quiet has never been Wynonna’s forte, never been something she could get used to, but for a couple of minutes it’s actually nice and she lets it settle over herself. When the cigarette burns out she grinds it against the window frame and then drops it out the window. With how many times she’s done this over the past couple of days she knows her aunt or uncle are likely to find the little pile of butts eventually, but she honestly doesn’t care at this point. It’s not like anything they can do about it will change anything.  
  
“It’s not fair that everyone’s so mean to you.” Waverly finally speaks up, and Wynonna lets out a silent sigh, closing her eyes. She’s tired, and honestly just wants to go to bed, but there’s no way her little sister’s going to let that happen. She leans more heavily against the sill as Waverly continues. “What Cam and Skip said, and the doctors and Gus. They’re all wrong. You’re not crazy. I know it. The demons are real. The revenants, they were there. I can tell them all I saw them, that they had Willa and Daddy and you just-”  
  
Wynonna’s eyes fly open and she whirls around. She’s crossed the room to the bed in less than a second, and as soon as she has her hand claps over Waverly’s mouth.  
  
“Don’t say that,” she growls, her eyes piercing into her sister’s. “Don’t you ever say that. None of it, ever again, got it? Demons, revenants, the Earp curse, don’t ever talk about it ever again, not with anyone!”  
  
For three months Wynonna’s been watched and studied, been told she’s crazy by everyone around her. Everybody watches her the moment she steps into a room and talks about her the second they think she’s far enough away not to hear, and she’s hated it. She’s been turned into a lab rat to see what dosages and types of pills might make her less insane that put her into a perpetual fog she’s still learning how to navigate through and it is all a hell she never imagined before, but the idea of Waverly experiencing even one second of any of it is a thousand times worse. The thought of Waverly at St. Victoria’s, her sister surrounded by cold doctors and then under the scrutiny of an entire town makes her blood run cold in her veins, and she silently swears right then not to ever let it happen.  
  
If she’s going to keep Waverly apart from it all though it means her sister can never mention anything about their family history again. She’s going to be the normal one, Wynonna will make damn sure of it, but to do so she has to make sure right now that Waverly will forget everything Daddy ever taught them about Wyatt Earp and his curse. Her little sister is staring up at her, eyes flicking quickly across Wynonna’s face, and the older girl meets them, her own unyielding.  
  
“Got it? You never talk about any of it ever again.”  
  
Waverly hesitates and Wynonna can see she wants to argue but something about her own expression must make Waverly rethink it. She pauses, a long silence drawing out between them, but then finally she nods beneath Wynonna’s palm. The elder Earp pulls back her hand, still not looking away and asks, “You promise? Never?”  
  
“I promise, Wynonna.” The words are quiet but serious, and Wynonna accepts them, nodding. “Okay then.”  
  
The conversation ends after that, yet somehow Waverly doesn’t end up going back to her own room that night. The two Earp sisters end up curled up beneath the blankets in Wynonna’s bed, and it doesn’t take too long for Waverly to fall asleep and steal the blankets. It isn’t the cold that keeps Wynonna awake though, and she watches her sleeping sister in the dull light of the moon shining in through the window. Her heart is still beating heavily in her chest, a silent panic slowly building she can’t quite shake. Waverly looks peaceful, happy even, but Wynonna has learned just how quickly happiness can be snuffed out. She thinks about that as her sister dreams, and doesn’t even try to dream with her.  
  
Hours later after she knows her aunt and uncle have gone to bed, Wynonna sneaks out of the room and then out of the house. She can’t be in there anymore, not while her chest feels so tight and her heart is beating so quickly. She needs space, needs to get away for a little while, to think and try not to think at the same time. Willa had begun learning how to drive before she disappeared which means Wynonna had learned some too, so she steals Gus’s keys from the hook by the door and slides into the driver’s seat of the truck. She’s sure that someone is going to wake up and come running out of the house the second she’s turned on the ignition but no one does, and soon she’s pulling out of the driveway and onto the dirt road that leads to town.  
  
The further away from the ranch she gets the easier it is for Wynonna to breathe, and she begins to wonder if maybe she should just keep driving, keep going without ever stopping and just leave Purgatory and all it’s demons - human and revenant - behind. 

***

She does stop.  
  
She shouldn’t, but she does.  
  
She’s about to pass by the Streadsons’ house when suddenly she gets an idea, and she stops. She searches around the entire perimeter of the house before she finds a hidden key in an old potted plant on the front porch, and then she’s inside and trying to move as silently as possible through the house. As she expects, Mrs. Streadson keeps her jewelry - including her pearl necklace - on her vanity in her bedroom, and Wynonna holds her breath the entire time she’s in there, both terrified and exhilarated by the thought of waking up either of the Streadsons who are sleeping peacefully only feet away in their bed. She makes it out of the bedroom and might even have made it all the way out of the house if Harris hadn’t left some toy lying in the middle of the hallway, but she trips on it and goes down hard, swearing as she falls. One of her knees slams into the floor and she hisses, but she’s up and running the next second without even giving it a second thought. There’s bumping and then shouting behind her, and she knows the Streadsons are all awake now so she makes a mad dash out of the house and to where she’s left her aunt’s truck parked on the side of the street. By the time she throws the door open there’s even more shouting behind her, very clearly Mr. Streadson with Mrs. Streadson screaming behind him, and Wynonna’s heart is in her throat. She’s so focused on getting out of there before they can catch her that she doesn’t pay enough attention, and when she slams her foot down on the gas pedal the truck is suddenly springing backwards when she meant to go forwards. Her reflexes aren’t fast enough, and the next thing she knows her head is smashing into the steering wheel as the back of Gus’s truck slams into a telephone pole.  
  
It feels like both hours and minutes later that Nedley is fastening the cuffs around her wrists, the way her arms are angled behind her back pulling painfully at her shoulder, and she knows the gash in her forehead that hasn’t stopped bleeding isn’t the only injury she’s sustained from her meeting with the pole. The sheriff just shakes his head when he looks down at her and then ushers her into the back of his patrol car, closing the door firmly behind her. Wynonna can still hear the Streadsons shouting from outside the car and now Nedley’s talking with them, clearly trying to appease them, and she just closes her eyes and sinks back against the seat. She knows in her gut Nedley isn’t going to take her back to the ranch, and has a feeling she won’t be going back to St. Victoria’s any time soon either. The silence in the back of the car engulfs her and she doesn’t know whether to sink into it or shrink away.  
  
Months ago Wynonna was part of a trio, almost never found herself alone when she had a sister on either side. Now she is no longer the middle, a third, part of a larger whole. She has become one, singular. Alone, and at the moment it settles over her like a cold mist.  
  
It’s better and she knows it; even now, sitting in the police cruiser, she knows being alone means being unable to hurt anyone else. Unable to hurt Waverly. Putting distance between them, separating herself from what is left of her family and is subsequently the only thing that matters to her anymore keeps Waverly safe. It breaks her heart, but she knows it’s true, knows it’s what kept her from falling asleep with her sister right beside her. If she’s crazy like everyone says then that’s all she’ll be, Waverly’s crazy sister, too far away to drag her into crazy town too. If Daddy was right and the Earp curse is real then the revenants will be coming after the new heir sooner or later, and Wynonna is going to make damn sure Waverly’s as far away from that as possible.  
  
The driver side door opens and then shuts as Nedley gets into the car, and Wynonna can feel his eyes shift to her in the rearview mirror, but her own eyes don’t open. The car starts up and pulls away from the mess she’s made in front of the Streadson house, and Wynonna thinks about how her life is about to change even more. There’s silence between her and Nedley as he brings her to the police station and she just rests her head back against the seat, ignoring the throbbing coming from her forehead, shoulder, and knee. All she can really feel is tired, but beneath that is a sliver of defiance.  
  
She and Mama may be crazy and the demons might have gotten Daddy and Willa, but Waverly is going to make it. She’s going to be normal and safe, and if that means Wynonna has to take herself out of her little sister’s life, then she’ll do it. She’s going to do whatever it takes to keep Waverly safe, even if that means she has to break both of their hearts to do it.  
  
For Waverly, it’s all worth it.  
  
The car stops and Wynonna finally opens her eyes, this new conviction settling into her bones.


	7. Chapter 7

The dress she’s wearing is itchy, and Waverly picks at its sleeves, tugging and shifting to try to get the fabric to rest in a way that doesn’t bother her. The collar feels too tight and she pulls at it, wishes she could just take the entire thing off, but she doesn’t. Aunt Gus picked it out special for her so she tries to pretend to like it, even if she does continue to scratch at the places it itches the worst. Her new shoes are no better: in the store she loved them, the black buckle across the front of each so cute she just had to have them, but after wearing them all day all she notices is how they pinch at her toes. She doesn’t complain though, just remains quiet in the corner as everyone else moves around her.  
  
Her aunt and uncle’s house is full of people, mostly adults but a few other kids mixed into the crowd. It’s a sea of black dresses and pressed button-ups and slacks, about as formal as wear ever gets in Purgatory, but the clothes aren’t needed to know that this is far from a happy occasion. Everyone talks in hushed tones as they form small groups, and the weird almost whispers itch at Waverly nearly as much as her dress does. Eyes flicker to her over and over again and she picks nervously as her nails, fidgeting and more uncomfortable than she can ever remember being.  
  
“Oh Waverly,” Mrs. Mealey croons, walking up to her. She looks at the little girl pityingly, shaking her head. “You poor thing. We’re all just so sorry for your loss, honey.”  
  
“Thank you,” she murmurs, shifting uncomfortably. It’s what she’s heard Gus and Curtis say every time someone has said the same to them, so she’s decided to adopt the response and so far it appears to be working. Mrs. Mealey gives her another look, shakes her head again, and then moves on. A group of people standing behind where the woman just was look down at her, the same pity obvious in their expressions too, and Waverly tries a smile and then looks away.  
  
She immediately regrets it. At one side of the room a table has been set up, and Waverly hates that her eyes keep getting drawn to it. Willa stares back at her from the center of the table, the picture placed where anyone can see it from any position in the room. There are others arranged along the table but this one is the largest, and her eldest sister smiles in it, her long blonde hair hanging back behind her shoulders. Waverly can’t remember when it was taken or who took it, but the picture somehow managed to capture a side of her sister Waverly so rarely got to see. She’s relaxed in it, unguarded, and every time Waverly looks at it her lip begins to tremble and her eyes start to water. Willa used to call her a baby whenever she caught her crying so she tries to hold the tears back, but she’s seen many of the adults surrounding her cry today so she thinks maybe it’s okay. Still, years of teasing has her holding it all in.  
  
More people move over to her to express their sympathy and Waverly does her best to respond, being extra careful as she tries to figure out exactly how she’s supposed to wade through all this sadness. She wishes she had someone next to her to help her, but Uncle Curtis disappeared into the kitchen a while ago and Aunt Gus is standing in the far corner, completely surrounded by neighbors and friends. Even if they were beside her, neither of them are the person she really wants, and Waverly’s thumbnail digs deep enough into the crevice of the nail of the opposite pointer finger to make it bleed. She looks down at it guiltily and bites her lip, and then wipes the little trickle of blood on her black dress, hoping no one will notice it.  
  
“Waverly?”  
  
She turns around and finds Chrissy, one of her best friends, standing beside her. Chrissy’s father is just behind her and Waverly thinks he looks strange out of his uniform and also in a button down and slacks, but she doesn’t say anything about it. Chrissy’s cheeks are wet and before Waverly can say anything her friend throws her arms around her neck, holding her tightly.  
  
“I’m sorry ‘bout Willa, Waverly,” Chrissy whispers, sniffling. Waverly can feel her wet cheek pressed against her own, and she wonders why Chrissy can cry and she can’t. Rather than think about it, she pats her friend on the back and then hugs her back, letting herself latch onto another person for just a split second before letting go.  
  
“Thanks Chrissy.” She can feel her friend nod before she lets go and takes a step back, and when she does the two share a smile because Waverly just doesn’t know what else to do. Looking past Chrissy her eyes trail up to the girl’s father and she shifts uncomfortably again, not even really noticing the way her shoes pinch her toes this time. “Office- um, Sheriff Nedley, when can Wynonna come back?”  
  
Nedley grimaces, nearly flinching beneath the wide-eyed and far too lost stare Waverly gives him, and shakes his head.  
  
“I’m afraid that’s not up to me, Waverly. There are other people who need to make that decision.”  
  
Waverly nods slowly, but she doesn’t understand. It was Nedley who took Wynonna away at the homestead and again three months ago after Christmas so she doesn’t understand why he can’t bring her back. She doesn’t question it though, just squeezes Chrissy’s hand when her friend reaches back out to her, and then stays still in her corner as the father and daughter step away, swept back into the quiet crowd around them. Waverly watches them go for a second, a flash of jealousy rising in her chest when Nedley’s hand rests gently on Chrissy’s shoulder, but she quickly pushes it away. After all, it’s not Chrissy’s fault that her own daddy only ever acted like that with Willa and sometimes Wynonna, never her. Not for the first time Waverly wonders what it would be like to have a daddy who loved her like that and not for the first time it makes a lump rise in her throat she has to swallow down.  
  
For a few minutes there is a lull around her, people only glancing at her instead of moving over to her, and Waverly takes the opportunity to look around again. This time she avoids looking at the table with Willa’s pictures on it and instead looks to the other side of the room where another table has been laid out with food. There’s a lasagna and a casserole, a few pies and some cookies, all things that neighbors have been bringing over to the ranch ever since the news went out about Willa, but none of it grabs at Waverly’s attention. At the end of the table though is a crock pot with hot chocolate, a big bowl of marshmallows sitting next to it. She’s always loved those little pillows of sugar so she makes her way over to the table, just barely wincing as her toes pinch even worse in her shoes.  
  
There are a few people loitering around the food table, and when they notice her heading their way they quickly make room for her. When she reaches for the marshmallows a man she doesn’t immediately recognize grabs the bowl and hands it to her.  
  
“Here, have as many as you want,” he says and she gives him her usual charming smile.  
  
“Thank you!”  
  
He pats her shoulder and then she turns to make her way back to her corner with her prize in hand, but before she gets very far she hears one of the women standing with him mutter, “Poor thing. Left all alone. Her mama up and left, daddy and one sister dead, and the other crazy.”  
  
“More ‘n just crazy,” one of the others say, “A killer too. I just can’t imagine it, knowing your sister killed your daddy.”  
  
There’s murmuring after that but Waverly hurries off, not wanting to hear anymore. They’re the same whispers she’s heard for months now and she hates it every time but doesn’t know what to do. Wynonna made her promise never to mention revenants or the Earp curse again so she hasn’t, but staying quiet has left her biting the inside of her cheek so hard that it’s bled more than once. This time instead of biting her cheek she pops a marshmallow into her mouth and chews on that instead.  
  
She’s counting the marshmallows as she eats them, trying to find someway to distract herself from the atmosphere around her. By marshmallow number eleven she’s looking around the room again when she notices movement out the window that makes her pause. Someone stands out in the dark flooded by the porchlight, and for the first time all day Waverly’s demeanor brightens. Without bothering to look anywhere else she quickly exits the room, making her way to the front door and letting herself out of the house.  
  
“Bobo!” she exclaims as she hurries out into the night, grinning at her friend she hasn’t seen in months. Wynonna always used to tease her whenever she talked about him, calling him her imaginary friend, but he’s here now and he doesn’t look imaginary. His funny mohawk sticks up as always and he’s wrapped up in the same big fur coat Waverly remembers he was wearing the last time she saw him, and he’s smirking down at her in that way that always makes her smile.  
  
“Hi there angel,” he replies, his smirk growing as one corner of his mouth tugs up further. He reaches out to her and she beams up at him when he gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Look at you. You’re getting so big.”  
  
Waverly ducks her head, suddenly shy and happy. She hasn’t seen Bobo since she moved in with her aunt and uncle and had just assumed he didn’t know how to find her anymore since he’d only ever visited her around the homestead before. But now he’s here and he’s looking at her the way he always does and suddenly she doesn’t feel quite so alone anymore.  
  
“I’m seven and a half now,” she reminds him, though she doesn’t think she has to. He actually came to see her when she turned seven just to wish her a happy birthday, something Daddy didn’t even do.  
  
He grins down at her and nods. “That you are.” He taps her nose lightly with one finger and then quickly steals a marshmallow from the bowl she’s still holding, quickly popping it into his mouth. With a wink he jumps back, easily pulling himself up on the hood of one of the many cars in the driveway and sits on it as he stares at her. She’s pretty sure it isn’t his car - she’s never seen him drive, doesn’t even know if he has a car - but since he’s always been nice to her she decides not to say anything. “Tell me angel, are your aunt and uncle treating you right?”  
  
She’s not really sure what he means but she nods anyway.  
  
“Of course! Gus and Curtis are taking care of me until Mama comes back. Then me and Wynonna will go live with her.”  
  
Bobo’s usual smirk slips for a moment, something like sympathy taking its place and Waverly doesn’t like it.  
  
“Your mama’s not coming back Waverly. I think you know that.”  
  
She looks away, crestfallen, blinking back tears. That’s what everyone keeps saying, but she wants them all to be wrong. It’s been over a year now though since Mama disappeared and she’s starting to think they’re all right. She shifts, her new shoes squeaking a little in the packed snow, and then gives a small shrug.  
  
“Then I’ll stay here, and soon Wynonna will be back.”  
  
Bobo’s smirk still hasn’t returned and Waverly doesn’t like the way he’s looking at her. It isn’t the same kind of pity everyone else looks at her with, but it’s still something she can’t identify that makes her uncomfortable.  
  
“Wynonna isn’t you, angel. The people in this town all think she’s gone crazy; that’s a stink that doesn’t wash off.” Waverly frowns, not understanding, and he leans forward, elbows braced against his knees. “My advice to you is to learn how to be alone. You’re stronger when you don’t have to depend on anyone. Take care of yourself first and no one else can drag you down.”  
  
“But I don’t wanna be alone.” Her voice is quiet, afraid, and she knows he can hear it. “I want Wynonna to come back. And you; you’re my friend, you make me not alone.”  
  
“Wynonna isn’t gonna be the same person you used to know, not after all that’s happened. And I don’t know how much I’ll be back either.”  
  
Waverly’s heart sinks and her stomach drops. She grips the bowl of marshmallows tightly, wishing her voice didn’t sound so small as she asks, “Why? Are you leaving?”  
  
At that the smirk finally does come back and if there was better light she’d see the glimmer in his eyes as he leans back, elbows now resting against the windshield of the car. “Not exactly,” he tells hers, “I’ve just recently found a new friend who needs me too. Her situation is just a little more… dire than yours.”  
  
She doesn’t entirely understand but she knows he’s found someone new to spend time with, and she can’t help but feel like she’s being replaced. She smiles weakly, trying to hide the pain that arises with the thought, and says, “Oh well, okay then.”  
  
He must see through her weak attempt to mask her pain because his smirk softens just a little.  
  
“Don’t worry angel,” he tells her with a wink, “I’ll always be watching, keeping my eye on you.” The words make her feel a little better and the tips of her lips curl up, this smile a little more genuine than the last. It’s good to know that even if everything has changed, even if her family is gone, he’ll still be watching out for her even if she can’t see him.  
  
“Waverly!”  
  
Waverly jumps, nearly spilling the marshmallows, and turns to find her aunt standing in the doorway, frowning at her. “What are you doing out here, honey?”  
  
“I was just talking to my friend,” she answers, turning around as she does to gesture to Bobo, but suddenly there’s no one in the spot he was in just a moment ago. She looks around, sure he must have just moved, but he’s nowhere to be found and her brow creases as she frowns. He definitely is fast.  
  
“You’re gonna freeze, come back inside.” Gus gestures to her so Waverly goes, casting one more look over her shoulder. When she reaches her aunt Gus rubs her hands up and down her arms and only then does she realize how cold she is. She shivers and Gus shakes her head, giving her a pointed look. “You can’t just leave like that, Waverly. Uncle Curtis and I need to know where you are. Got it?”  
  
“Yes Aunt Gus,” she says, her shoulders lifting up to her ears as she glances up at her aunt from beneath her eyelashes. “Sorry.”  
  
Gus gives her a bemused smile and then circles an arm around her shoulders. “It’s alright, honey.” She glances back at the noise coming from inside the house and sighs as she holds her niece a little closer. “I know today’s been tough but it’s almost over. I’m real proud of how well you’ve done.”  
  
That’s enough to get Waverly smiling, ducking her head in happy embarrasment. Gus rubs her back and then leads them back inside, and Waverly only peaks back behind her for a split second before the door closes. Bobo still isn’t anywhere to be found so she decides to push him and his words out of her thoughts for now. She’ll have time to think about them later, she’s sure.  
  
It feels like a long time before people start leaving the ranch but finally the crowd starts to thin, people leaving in twos and threes and then larger groups. Waverly sticks to her aunt’s side now, and though she expects her aunt to take the bowl of marshmallows away she doesn’t. Her aunt is too distracted by everyone offering her their condolences to notice, so the little girl keeps eating them, using the sugary pillows to try to offset the anxious buzzing she feels in her belly. Everyone who talks to her aunt gives her a look and after about the sixth time Waverly just stops meeting their eyes, too uncomfortable and fidgety beneath their stares.  
  
Waverly is so focused on ignoring everyone around her that she jumps when a hand gently presses against her shoulder. Her eyes dart up to find Keira kneeling in front of her, pretty in her black dress and a soft look in her eyes. It’s the kind of look that makes Waverly want to relax, to feel at ease, but she remembers all too well what happened the first time she trusted those pretty eyes and kind smile. She takes a step closer to her aunt and bites her lip, worrying it between her teeth.  
  
“Hi Waverly,” Keira says to her softly, flashing her a small smile. “How are you doing?” Waverly just shrugs, holding the bowl of marshmallows firmly against her chest. Her eyes flick away from the woman, carefully not focusing on anything.  
  
It isn’t the first time she’s seen Keira since she helped Officer Nedley take Wynonna away. She used to visit Waverly a lot when she first moved in with her aunt and uncle but hasn’t been by as often the past couple of months. Waverly’s happy about that; as nice as Keira always is she can’t forget crying in her arms as Wynonna fought against Nedley to get away. She still wakes up crying sometimes, Wynonna’s cries mixing with her own echoing in her ears.  
  
Keira doesn’t seem to be particularly bothered by her silence. She gently squeezes her shoulder and then rocks back on her heels and Waverly’s eyes are drawn back to her. Again, there’s that same look of pity and sympathy and Waverly wishes she could just disappear, become the nothing she wishes she felt right now.  
  
“I’m very sorry about your sister, Waverly.” Keira’s tone is soft, gentle. Wynonna’s face flashes through Waverly’s mind, but she knows that isn’t the sister Keira is sorry about. “But I’m sure both she and your daddy are watching over you now.”  
  
Words bubble up the back of Waverly’s throat, wanting to tell her that Willa was never the sister who watched out for her, that the sister she needs is very much still alive and being kept from her, but she keeps her mouth shut. She’s not sure she could handle whatever look that would cause Keira to give her.  
  
When she doesn’t say anything, the woman gives her a small encouraging smile and then stands up to talk with Gus. Waverly’s aunt talks with her for a minute or two, thanking her for coming, assuring her that Waverly is doing well with them, even today, and then soon Keira leaves and Waverly can breathe just a little easier. She watches the woman walk away and hopes Wynonna is somehow with her the next time Waverly sees her. They can’t be keeping her away much longer, can they? She has to be coming home soon, Waverly is sure of it. She certainly hopes so, at least.  
  
Keira is one of the last people to try to talk with Waverly, and then soon the house is empty of everyone except those that live there. She thinks she can see her aunt and uncle both release the tension from their shoulders after the last person leaves and suddenly they look about as exhausted as Waverly feels. Curtis gives her a small smile when he sees her looking at him and then nods to the stairs and suggests she changes into her jammies while they start cleaning up. He takes the marshmallows from her when she nearly takes them with her, shaking his head and the smile becomes a bit more genuine.  
  
Less than an hour later Waverly is tucked into bed, her room dark and one of her stuffed animals held close, but she can’t sleep. She can’t get Willa’s smiling face out of her mind or the pity she’d had directed at her all day. Her chest aches and all she wants is for Wynonna to be in the bed across the hall like she should be so she could go tuck herself against her big sister’s side. Her stomach rolls and she burrows further into her blankets, hoping their warmth will help push away this painful loneliness that has gathered in the pit of her stomach.  
  
Her stomach rolls again and her eyes pop open, suddenly realizing it isn’t the loneliness that’s making her feel so bad in this moment. Quickly she throws off the covers and rushes out of her room, throwing her door open and darting towards the bathroom. She reaches it just in time to hang her head over the toilet as all the marshmallows she’s eaten come rushing back up. She heaves and cringes as partially digested marshmallow plunk into the toilet. The heaving continues until her stomach hurts in an entirely different way, her muscles clenched for far too long, and she’s gagging at the taste of stomach acid in her mouth. Tears prickle at the corners of her eyes but she brushes them away angrily with a swipe of her arms. When she’s finally stopped throwing up she flushes the toilet and then goes to the sink, standing on her tiptoes to turn on the faucet and cup her hands beneath the stream of water. It takes more than a few handfuls of water to start to wash the yucky taste out of her mouth and she stands there until it finally begins to leave.  
  
Finally the taste begins to diminish and Waverly leaves the bathroom. She’s making her way back towards her room when she hears murmuring coming from downstairs. She can’t make out exactly what is being said, but something about it makes her feet shift until she’s moving to the stairs, and before she fully realizes what she’s doing she’s sitting three steps down and listening as her aunt and uncle talk below her, neither aware of their audience.  
  
“It’s not right.” That’s Uncle Curtis, and Waverly leans forward a little. “Think of all she’s been through, Gus. She should be with the family she has left, not strangers.”  
  
“You think I don’t know that?” There’s an edge to Aunt Gus’s voice and Waverly frowns at it. “You think my heart doesn’t break every time I think about any of this? Wynonna’s gone through more in the last year than any person should ever have to go through, but that doesn’t change anything.”  
  
Waverly jumps at her sister’s name and scoots down another step, her heart suddenly beating a little more quickly.  
  
“Course it does!” Curtis’s voice is raised and it makes Waverly’s eyes widen. Uncle Curtis almost never raises his voice. “None of this is her fault, Gus! We can’t just turn our backs on her.”  
  
“She missed her _sister’s_ funeral because she tried to burn down her classroom, Curtis!” Gus snaps, and Waverly grasps her nightgown tightly against her legs, not even noticing she’s also pinching her skin. “She shoulda been here today with us, with Waverly, mourning Willa, but instead the people at St. Victoria’s had to lock her away again because she can’t control herself!”  
  
“And you really think some strangers are gonna be able to help her with that better than us? You know Wynonna; she’s stubborn, independent, she’s not going to let strangers tell her what to do anymore than she’s already let ‘em.”  
  
“Curtis, if it was just us you know I’d never let anyone take that girl from us. I’d fight tooth and nail until they let us bring her home, but it ain’t just us. We need to think of Waverly.”  
  
Waverly bites her cheek when she hears her own name, and feels her throat begin to burn. Curtis doesn’t say anything, and Gus continues.  
  
“What happens when Wynonna gets into another fight, and Waverly jumps right in behind her? What woulda happened if Waverly had been with her when Wynonna ran my truck into that telephone pole? Wynonna’s lucky all she got was a concussion and a hurt shoulder; if Waverly had been with her she coulda been killed.”  
  
“Wynonna cares more about Waverly than she does herself, she’d never let Waverly do anything that would hurt her.”  
  
Gus’s tone changes, and Waverly can practically see her shaking her head. “Waverly worships her big sister, will do anything she sees Wynonna do. I don’t think Wynonna would mean to get her hurt, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t happen. If we let Wynonna come back here, we risk something bad happening to Waverly. Until Wynonna can learn how to control her impulses, control herself, she’s a danger to Waverly, and we gotta think about that. We might not be able to keep Wynonna safe from herself, but I’ll be damned if I let Waverly go down with her. That girl’s already been through enough, she deserves as normal a life as we can give her, and if that means keeping distance between her ‘n Wynonna, then that’s what we need to do, at least until Wynonna's safe for Waverly to be around.”  
  
Curtis mutters something Waverly can’t hear but whatever it is is clearly half-hearted. He’s obviously running out of steam, running out of arguments, and the burning in Waverly’s throat increases until she can’t even swallow. Bruises are forming beneath her grip but she can’t feel it, all she can feel is the way her stomach is dropping and heart is breaking. Her aunt and uncle keep moving downstairs, their words quieter now, but Waverly is no longer listening to them. A tear drips from her chin to the back of her hand and she doesn’t know when she started crying, but then more are dripping down and there’s no stopping them. She doesn’t even try, just lets the tears stream silently down her face. When she can feel a sob building she presses one palm over her mouth to silence it, and then she’s curling into a ball on the stairs. Her body shakes and her forehead presses against her knees as she futilely attempts to hold herself together.  
  
She thought she could get through it. All of it; Mama leaving, Daddy dying and then Willa dying, but now she isn’t so sure. Wynonna was supposed to be here, by her side. She was supposed to help her, hold her, be her strength, and now her strength is gone and she isn’t coming back. Both of her big sisters have been taken away from her and it just isn’t fair.  
  
One day maybe the world will stop trying to break Waverly’s heart, but that’s not today. Her stomach rolls again and she’s up and running, racing to the bathroom, silently hoping she can expel the utter loss and loneliness that is clinging to her bones along with whatever is left of her marshmallow dinner.  
  
As more partially digested sugar splashes into the toilet, the loneliness only clings to her even more tightly, and she knows it isn’t ever going to leave her. It’s perhaps the one thing she can truly count on now, the only thing her family has left her with.


	8. Chapter 8

It’s the last full week of school and the halls of Purgatory High are buzzing this Friday morning with poorly contained excitement. The jocks are being loud and annoying, doing some moronic chant by a group of lockers and their girlfriends are watching with fake bemusement that makes Wynonna want to upchuck as she passes by them. Even the nerdy kids who are always early to class are spending more time out in the hallways today than usual, their textbooks shut away in bags when normally they’d have their noses stuck inside them. Summertime is always a time of high energy in Purgatory, everyone happy to put another long winter behind them and enjoy the hot sun for a few months, but this year Wynonna isn’t sharing in the excitement. All she has to look forward to is a long summer of cleaning up pancaked animal parts off of the streets, the result of a third stint in juvie.  
  
Fuck Jay Novak and his fucking drugs. “Probation officer” her ass.  
  
Even in their hyped up state few people try to go near her, so Wynonna gets to her locker without any problem while many of her peers have to push and shove through the crowd to get to their own. Standing in front of it, she eyes the door warily, wondering if this will be like pretty much every other Friday she’s had to deal with ever since she returned to school this last time or if Queen Bitch Megan Halshford has been too absorbed in the summer jitters to leave her usual gift. She reaches out to grab the handle of her locker and then she can smell it, and she’s already gritting her teeth as she pulls it open and quickly steps to the side, avoiding the mess that falls out with practiced ease.  
  
Intestines and other entrails slip out from the locker, squishing onto the floor below it. A trail is left on the locker below her own - luckily unused by anyone, or else she might feel sorry for them - and a bit of blood and guts splatter onto her black combat boots. After nearly three months of dealing with this every Friday she’s figured out how to avoid the worst of the mess, but that doesn’t help reduce the boiling anger that springs up in her gut. She slams her locker shut without bothering to grab anything and just adjusts the single strap she carries over on shoulder, her bag bumping against her back. She’s learned not to keep anything important in her locker and couldn’t give two shits about the couple of textbooks she left in there that now are likely sticky with pig guts, but it all still pisses her off. There is some giggling behind her and her anger burns hotter, already knowing who she’ll find when she turns around.  
  
Megan and Samantha “Perky Tits” Baker stand behind her, both smirking at her. Megan’s boyfriend Brad has his arms around her waist and is watching with a lazy grin, eyes trailing down at the pile of entrails on the floor.  
  
“Looks like you made a mess, Wynonna,” Megan taunts and then plugs her nose. “And it sure does stink.”  
  
“Well that part’s nothing new,” Samantha says, looking down her nose at Wynonna. “There don’t need to be any intestines in Wynonna’s locker for it to stink.”  
  
“And you don’t need to be speaking to be a bitch, but you do anyway,” Wynonna shoots back. “Maybe someday you’ll be able to get past that, but I doubt it.” Brad guffaws at the comeback, letting out a single laugh, while Megan and Samantha’s eyes both narrow.  
  
“There’s no bigger bitch in this school than you, Earp,” Megan says and Wynonna just grins and shrugs, but before she can respond another voice speaks up.  
  
“Excuse you, but that’s where you are so very wrong.” Mercedes Gardner, the eldest daughter of Purgatory royalty and probably the only friend Wynonna will ever have in this god-awful town steps forward, pushing Megan and Samantha out of her way to move over to Wynonna. She tosses her bright red hair over one shoulder and then eyes the other two girls from beneath perfectly plucked eyebrows. “I think we all know I’m the biggest bitch in this school.” She flutters her fingers at them. “Run along now, before I show you just how much of a bitch I can be.”  
  
Megan and Samantha look as if they want to say something but then Samantha lifts her head up a little higher and throws them the haughtiest look she can muster. “Come on Megan, if we stay here much longer we’ll be stuck with the stink of juvie on us all day.” Megan nods and grabs one of Brad’s hands, yanking him after her as she and Samantha turn to walk away. For his part Brad follows, but not without throwing another look at Wynonna first. When she meets his eyes his smirk grows and then he winks before tossing an arm over Megan’s shoulders and turning his focus back on her.  
  
Wynonna watches them go, her anger in no way abated, but when Mercedes leans against a group of lockers - well away from the mess on the floor - she looks back to her friend.  
  
“Those skanks need to learn a lesson,” Mercedes says, glaring after them. “This is getting old, and I can’t go about possibly getting pig grossness on my clothes anymore.”  
  
Wynonna snorts and raises an eyebrow at her.  
  
“Yeah, because you’re the one getting pig guts on you every week. Right.”  
  
Mercedes raises one shoulder, giving a little shrug. “It’s always a possibility, bitch. And this bitch doesn’t wear swine well.”  
  
“Thought you’ve said you could pull anything off?” Wynonna taunts and Mercedes gives her a thin grin as though it’s obvious, duh. Wynonna shakes her head and then looks back to where the trio has disappeared around the corner, the gears in her head turning. “Don’t worry about those Heather wannabes, I have an idea how to deal with them.” She thinks about the way Brad looked at her before leaving, and knows exactly what to do. It should be easy enough, and with any luck she might even have some fun in the process.  
  
The bell rings suddenly and Mercedes rolls her eyes, rubbing one ear.  
  
“I sure look forward to not having to hear _that_ every day for a few months at least.” She pushes herself off the lockers and then adjusts the straps of the bag hanging off the crook of her elbow. “I’ll see you before fourth period?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow up. Their classes are across the hall from each other, so they always meet up for the few minutes between periods at that time.  
  
“Sure bitch,” Wynonna agrees. “Don’t get into any trouble without me till then.”  
  
Mercedes’s smirk grows. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Toodles.” Wynonna just grunts a response and then the redhead leaves, heading off to her first class of the day where she isn’t likely to pay attention to anything but her cell phone.  
  
Wynonna sighs, her eyes dropping down to the pile of entrails on the floor. She supposes she should go try to find Larry. That dude probably hates her by now, but it’s not like she’s the one stuffing pig guts into lockers. Besides, if he didn’t want to clean up after asshole teenagers he probably shouldn’t have agreed to be a high school janitor.  
  
She hikes the strap of her bag further up her shoulder and sets off, starting to plan how exactly she’s going to steal Megan’s boyfriend as she goes. She has no doubt the opportunity will present itself soon, and then she’ll just have to figure out the best way to capitalize on smearing it in Megan’s face.  
  
God does she look forward to the look that’ll be on that bitch’s face when she sees Wynonna with her boyfriend. The corners of her mouth lift as she thinks about it and suddenly there’s an extra little spring in her step. Finally, something to look forward to.

***

About three and a half hours later, Wynonna’s no longer thinking about Megan or even Brad as she leans against a couple of lockers outside of the biology classroom. She really isn’t thinking about anything at all as hard rock blares through her headphones and she’s tapping one foot along with the beat, her eyes closed. She’s been there for a couple of minutes and the next bell is likely going to ring soon so she should probably be wondering where Mercedes is but she isn’t particularly concerned. It’s not like she’s the other girl’s keeper or anything and despite what she said earlier, Mercedes isn’t the one who typically winds up in trouble of the two of them. If she stands Wynonna up it’s probably because she’s giving some guy head in one of the bathrooms somewhere; it’s happened before, to both of them.  
  
It doesn’t happen today though. Someone plucks one of the headphones from Wynonna’s ear and she’s already prepared to punch them in the mouth until she sees Mercedes twirling it in the air between them.  
  
“You’re lucky I don’t punch you, bitch,” Wynonna grumbles, taking out the other headphone. Mercedes grins, shrugs, and drops the cord. She glances at the bio room and then at the history room across the hall that she’s supposed to go to next, and when she looks back at Wynonna with an eyebrow ticked up the other girl already knows what she’s going to say.  
  
“I need a smoke. Wanna blow next period?”  
  
Wynonna stuffs her headphones into the pocket of her leather jacket. “Like Heath Ledger,” she says and Mercedes wiggles her eyebrows, clearly agreeing. They turn around and head away from the classrooms just as the bell rings, and Wynonna raises a middle finger at the ceiling nonchalantly.  
  
It’s far from the first time they’ve skipped class for a smoke, so it doesn’t take more than a few minutes before they’re outside. They lean against the side of the building and Mercedes pulls a carton of cigarettes from her bag and then digs around the bottom until she finds her lighter. Wynonna plucks a cigarette from the carton when it’s held out to her, and then she’s taking the lighter from her friend as she sticks the cigarette between her lips. With a flick of her thumb and a quick inhalation it’s lit and smoke fills her lungs. She holds the breath for a moment, feeling the smoke filter through her, and then slowly lets it out.  
  
They’re both taking long drags from their cigarettes in silence when a door on the far side of the building opens and kids begin to pour out of it. Purgatory is so small that the building houses both the middle and high school, and now they watch as the fifth and sixth grade classes spill out onto the playground for recess. It’s a pretty pathetic playground, just a few swings, some tar with a couple of four-squares painted on, and a tetherball pole, but the kids scream and laugh as they race onto it as though it’s the greatest playground ever created. Wynonna and Mercedes watch them through the smoke swirling from the tips of their cigarettes, amused.  
  
Wynonna has never said as much to her only friend, but this is her favorite time of day, especially on days like this when they skip class. It’s the surest time for her to catch a glimpse of her little sister, whether it’s through the biology classroom window or up against the wall like this. Even after three and a half years she’s still bouncing around from one foster home to another, which means opportunities to see Waverly are rare, so she leaps at them whenever she can.  
  
She watches the kids spread out across the playground and split into groups and scans each one of them, searching for her sister, but begins to frown when she doesn’t immediately find her. A second and then third scan and she still doesn’t see her, but she does see someone who should be able to tell her where she is.  
  
“Yo, Nedley Junior!” she calls loudly, nodding towards where Waverly’s best friend is getting in line for four square. Chrissy looks up and sees her and then looks around quickly before ditching the line and jogging over to the two older girls.  
  
“Hey Wynonna,” she says and waves at Mercedes who just watches as she takes another puff of her cigarette.  
  
Wynonna ignores the greeting. “Where’s Waverly?”  
  
Chrissy shrugs. “Home, I think. She said she wasn’t feeling very good yesterday and didn’t come to school today, so I guess she’s sick.”  
  
Wynonna’s brow furrows as she rolls her cigarette absentmindedly between her fingers, all but forgotten.  
  
“Hey!” someone calls from the other side of the playground and Mercedes swears beside her.  
  
“Shit. Now you’ve done it, Earp. Had to draw attention to us, didn’t you?” One of the teachers, Mr. Giordhan, has spotted them and is quickly crossing the space towards them.  
  
“You two shouldn’t be out here! And are- are you smoking?”  
  
Wynonna flashes Chrissy a smirk, dropping what’s left of her cigarette and stomping it out. Using two fingers, she gives her a salute. “Later, baby Nedley. Gotta run. Let’s get out of here, ‘Cedes.”  
  
“I don’t run, Wynonna,” Mercedes mutters but is quick to crush her cigarette against the wall and then drop it before hurrying after Wynonna as she takes off. They can both hear Mr. Giordhan shouting after them but they don’t stop, quickly putting distance between themselves and the playground.  
  
When Mercedes turns to make her way back into the building, Wynonna keeps going forward, and the redhead rolls her eyes. “Taking off, Earp?”  
  
Wynonna tosses her a smirk over her shoulder and raises an eyebrow. “Got somewhere I gotta be, Gardner. See ya later, bitch.”  
  
Mercedes shakes her head. She doesn’t have to ask to know where her best friend is going, and so just leans against the door as she gives Wynonna a look. “Later, bitch.” She’s never quite understood Wynonna’s devotion to her little sister, especially after she moved in with their aunt and uncle while Wynonna was kicked to the curb, but she knows better than to question it at this point. One thing’s for sure, the Earp sisters are definitely closer than she is with either of her little siblings, even though they don’t live together. She’d happily live apart from both Beth and Tucker, but here Wynonna is risking yet another suspension for getting caught ditching just for Waverly.  
  
Oh well, at least the school year is almost over. There’s not a whole hell of a lot anyone will able to do if they catch her. She stands there for a second and watches Wynonna go, reckless as ever, and can’t help but feel a little envious of her. Someday she’d like to have just a fraction of the other girl’s fearlessness. Nobody could ever claim Wynonna doesn’t have any lady balls, that’s for damn sure. She shakes her head again and then pushes the door open, heading back inside to continue this long-ass school day.  
  
God, she can’t wait to get out of Purgatory.

***

“You barely ate any of your soup.”  
  
Waverly just shrugs, glancing from the bowl on her bedside table to her aunt. Gus is giving her a look, one hand on her hip, but she doesn’t have enough energy to be intimidated by it. “I’m not hungry.”  
  
Gus isn’t happy with the answer and Waverly can tell by the way she purses her lips, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead she steps forward, takes the almost full bowl of soup in one hand, and then gently places the back of her other hand against Waverly’s forehead. Waverly knows it must be hot, and it’s confirmed when her aunt shakes her head.  
  
“Doesn’t feel like your fever’s broken at all.” She nods at the cup of water still on the table. “Drink. I won’t make you finish the soup, but I want you to drink the water. Then see if you can get any sleep. I’ll be back up in an hour or so with some more medicine, then maybe you can try eating again.”  
  
“Yes Gus,” Waverly recites, her voice a little scratchy. Her throat has been hurting since the previous afternoon and her nose has been stuffy since last night. She ate some crackers and peanut butter earlier that morning but hasn’t been hungry all day. Her body is too achey and she’s tired but hasn’t been able to actually fall asleep, so she’s more than a little miserable. Gus gives her a sympathetic look and then leans over, kissing her forehead, and Waverly closes her eyes at the touch, sinking into it just a little.  
  
“Get some sleep, sweetheart. You’ll feel better soon.” With that her aunt stands back up and turns around, making her way out of the room and closing the door behind her.  
  
Now alone, Waverly burrows back into her bed, tugging her many blankets up under her chin. She’s a little warm beneath so many layers but it’s better than being cold, so she accepts it. The air in the room feels a little stuffy but she’s pretty sure that’s just her imagination, since her window has been open all morning. She sniffles, wishing she could breathe easily again, and then grabs a tissue from the box beside her bed and blows her nose loudly. It does nothing to clear her up and she glares at the tissue as she drops it into the trash can beside her bed.  
  
She hates being sick. She’s always hated getting sick for as long as she can remember. She hates being cooped up in bed, hates missing school. When she was little and Mama was still around she would always try to hide it whenever she didn’t feel well, never wanting to break her perfect attendance record. After Mama left and it was just Daddy she barely ever had to try to hide it whenever she got sick, but Gus and Curtis have been far more observant than Daddy ever was. She lets out a heavy sigh and lets her head fall back against her pillow, bored and just miserable. Waverly squeezes her eyes shut, hoping that sleep will take over any second.  
  
She has been waiting for a while when a scratching noise followed by a huff makes her eyes open again. The sounds are coming from outside her window so she looks over, and her mood instantly brightens as she sees her big sister yanking herself up to the window.  
  
“Wynonna!”  
  
Wynonna flashes her a grin between a few heavy breaths and then she’s perched on Waverly’s windowsill. “Hey there, Waves. What’s up?”  
  
Waverly rolls her eyes even as warmth floods through her chest. “You know you don’t have to climb in through the window. You could use the front door.”  
  
Her sister scoffs, a corner of her grin rising a little higher. “Yeah, as if Gus wouldn’t just send me right back to school.” She swings one leg into the room and then the other. “Trust me baby girl, this is helluva lot easier.”  
  
“Well you should be at school,” Waverly says in her aunt’s defense, but there’s no conviction in her voice. “They’re going to be mad you left.” She pauses then, tilting her head. “You were at school, right?”  
  
It’s Wynonna’s turn to roll her eyes as she stands up, now fully in the room. “Yes, I was at school. Mostly.” She drops the bag that was hanging on her back to the floor and then toes off her boots. Once they are off she keeps moving forward until she reaches the bed, and then lifts up a few of the blankets. “Shove over.”  
  
Waverly does so without argument, making room for her older sister. Wynonna plops down beside her, already making a face when she sees just how many blankets are piled on top of Waverly. “Sweet hell Waverly, how can you stand so many blankets in June?”  
  
The little sister shrugs, tugging them up over her chest and patting the top one. “I like them, and hate being cold.”  
  
“I know,” Wynonna tells her with a snort, “I remember you crawling into bed with me when you were little and had a bad dream. You brought like six blankets with you every time.” She makes a face and Waverly sticks her tongue out at her, but both sisters are fighting back smiles. Wynonna leans back against one of the pillows, plumping it up a bit, and then when she’s settled she pats her shoulder and it’s all the invitation Waverly needs to shift over until her head is resting against it and she’s curled up next to her big sister. She takes as deep a breath as she can with her stuffed nose, letting the feel and smell of her sister wash over her, and wrinkles her nose.  
  
“You’ve been smoking again, haven’t you?” She tilts her head up to give Wynonna an accusatory stare and the older girl just shrugs the shoulder Waverly isn’t laying against. “Wynonna those things could kill you!”  
  
“Yeah, only if I’m lucky,” she scoffs, a teasing lilt to her tone, but the words are twinged with a dark meaning they both instantly pick up on. Waverly bites her tongue, all of their Daddy’s stories swirling through her head as well as the image of Willa being pulled out of a window, and she burrows closer to her sister. Wynonna’s arm curls around her and her thumb rubs against her shoulder, as though to comfort her.  
  
Wynonna holds her little sister close and lets her head flop to the side so she can press her lips against the top of Waverly’s head. It isn’t quite a kiss but more of just a touch, and for the first time in weeks she feels entirely at peace. One finger taps against Waverly’s shoulder rhythmically, and for a few minutes they just enjoy the silence.  
  
“Do you like the Caseys?” Waverly suddenly asks, breaking the quiet. She shifts a little again to look up at her and Wynonna glances down, meeting her eyes. “Are they nice?”  
  
The Caseys are the latest in her long line of foster homes, and again Wynonna shrugs. “They’re alright,” she just says. She doesn’t tell Waverly she’s caught Mr. Casey giving her looks a few times, the kind she’s quickly learned to recognize. She’s not too worried about it, she’s pretty sure she could kick his ass pretty easily if he ever tries anything, but mentioning it will only worry Waverly, so she keeps it to herself. “They haven’t gotten tired of me yet, at least.”  
  
“Nobody ever gets tired of you, Wynonna,” her sister tells her, brow furrowing, and Wynonna laughs.  
  
“Everybody gets tired of me, baby girl. I’m kinda a handful, remember?”  
  
Waverly’s frown deepens and then an arm reaches across her sister’s waist, pulling herself closer. “ _I_ don’t ever get tired of you. Never will.”  
  
Wynonna swallows thickly, quickly pushing back the slight burn trying to creep up the back of her throat. “Yeah well, you’re special, Waverly. Always have been.”  
  
“So are you.”  
  
“We’re different kinds of special.” Wynonna’s grip on Waverly’s shoulder tightens a bit, and then she’s speaking into her hair. “Now try to get some sleep, baby girl.”  
  
Waverly looks up at her with those big eyes Wynonna misses every single day. “Promise you’ll still be here when I wake up?”  
  
The elder sister nods. “Promise. Now sleep, twerp.” The corners of Waverly’s lips twitch but she nods and closes her eyes, finally starting to actually feel tired. For some reason it’s always easier to sleep curled up against her sister than any other time.  
  
For a while Waverly hangs in that spot between sleep and consciousness, her thoughts nearly turning into dreams but never quite making the full transition. She can feel Wynonna’s finger still tapping against her shoulder and she can hear her sister’s heartbeat beneath her ear, and all she wants is to freeze this moment, to never let it go. She thinks at some point Wynonna starts humming softly and though it isn’t anything Waverly immediately recognizes there’s a familiarity to it that just increases the peace of the moment. It takes a couple of minutes of listening for her to realize it’s the lullaby Mama used to sing to them, and the realization both tugs at her heart and makes her feel infinitely safer.  
  
She’s just about to succumb to true sleep when there are footsteps in the hall outside her room and then she hears her door open. Waverly is instantly awake again, though she keeps her eyes closed and just listens to the interaction taking place. She knows it’s Gus without having to look, and she can feel the stare her aunt and sister are sharing. The silence draws out for at least a full minute and Waverly holds her breath, subconsciously holding tighter to her sister’s side.  
  
Finally she hears more footsteps, and Gus must be making her way further into the room. She hears something get placed on her bedside table, and then Gus simply says quietly, “See if you can get her to eat some of that, when she wakes up.”  
  
“Sure,” Wynonna replies, just as quietly. It’s all either of them say but there’s another short silence, and then Waverly hears her floorboards creak followed by her door closing. She lets out the breath she’d been holding, and then feels Wynonna shift a little. “Go to sleep, Waverly,” she whispers, her breath tickling the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”  
  
_Not yet_ , Waverly thinks, but she doesn’t say it. Wynonna will leave again, she knows it, but at this moment she has her sister with her.  
  
Ever since she was little, Waverly has hated being sick, but a couple of years ago she learned there are benefits to it when Wynonna crawled through her window for the first time. Since that moment Waverly has gone out of her way to be sick as often as possible. It doesn’t always work, sometimes Wynonna doesn’t find out before she’s feeling better and back in school, but every now and then when she does learn of Waverly’s sickness she ends up at the window again. It’s always worth the sore throat and stuffy nose when she has her sister’s arm around her.  
  
Waverly’s perfect attendance record really isn’t that important, not when she compares it to these stolen moments with her sister.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may have made me start shipping Wyncedes just a little more seriously. Just putting that out there...

Trashy music pumps out of the speakers in the corners of the strip club, loud but not quite overbearing. The room smells like stale beer with an underlying scent of body odor and Mercedes Gardner wrinkles her nose as she makes her way to the bar. Looking around, she notices she’s the only woman in the room not walking around carrying trays with drinks or dancing around a pole. There are a couple dozen men instead, a few just drinking around the tables, but most crowded around the three small stages where three women dance. Mercedes easily recognizes one of the dancers and smirks to herself as she reaches the bar.  
  
“What can I get ya?” the bartender asks almost as soon as she’s there. There are a few other patrons standing or sitting at the bar, but it isn’t difficult to see why he zeroed in on her as he gives her a cocky smile, his eyes quickly trailing down to her chest.  
  
Mercedes leans against the bar, fully ignoring the look. This guy wouldn’t stand a chance in hell with her with his salt and pepper stubble, beer gut, and stubby fingers, so she barely even looks at him.  
  
“Gin and tonic,” she just says, eyes going back to the stage closest to the bar. One corner of her mouth curls up into a smirk. “And I’ll take a dance from her.”  
  
The man’s brow shoots up as he looks over to see who she’s referring to. “Aphrodite, huh?” He grins lecherously as he nods. “Yeah, I can set that up.”  
  
“Mm.” Mercedes doesn’t say anything else to him and he turns to get her drink. The other men at the bar all either steal glances of her or outright stare but she ignores them all, just idly watching the dancers. When the bartender sets her glass in front of her she purses her lips into something resembling a smile, pulls her wallet out of the purse dangling over her elbow, and then takes a ten dollar bill from it and leaves it on the bar. She grabs her drink without another word and turns away, heading over to an empty table at the back of the room. It’s quieter here so she sits down to watch the show, nursing her drink slowly.  
  
It isn’t more than ten minutes later that Wynonna comes strutting over in a pair of heeled-leather boots that reach halfway up her calf. A pair of jean shorts hug her hips, barely long enough to cover her ass, and there’s a leather jacket covering her upper half that is unzipped with only a lacy black bra underneath it. Her hair hangs in luscious waves over her shoulders but despite the obvious sexiness exuding from the outfit, the cocked eyebrow and half of a smirk she’s giving Mercedes is signature Earp, not greek goddess.  
  
“What the hell are you doing here, bitch?” Wynonna asks, stopping in front of her friend and crossing her arms over her chest, effectively pushing her breasts up higher. Mercedes glances at them because how can she not and then cocks an eyebrow up to match the brunette’s look.  
  
“Classes ended last week, which means I had to come back to this lovely hell,” Mercedes answers with a look around and then a roll of her eyes. “Two days home and my perfectly annoying siblings are already wearing on my nerves, so I figured I’d see what the second biggest bitch in Purgatory was up to.” She eyes the other girl through her eyelashes again, the corners of her lips twitching. “You look good.”  
  
Wynonna scoffs, rolls her eyes, and shrugs. “Yeah well, when you’re dirt-broke and crazy you gotta take what you can get, right?”  
  
“Mm,” Mercedes agrees, and then looks past the brunette at the men still clustered around the stages. Another woman has come to take Wynonna’s place on the third stage and all three performers are swinging their hips in their own skimpy outfits, each with their own theme. A dancing blonde is in pigtails and the shortest plaid skirt she’s ever seen, a woman with black hair has an old-time nurse’s hat somehow perched in her long hair, and the third, another brunette, has a black cat-tail attached to the back of her panties, swaying along behind her as she moves. Wynonna’s slutty biker-chick is by far the most original, and so very Wynonna. “Surprised you haven’t given any of these meatheads a heart attack yet.”  
  
Amusement flashes across Wynonna’s face and her hip thrusts to the side with just enough attitude that Mercedes is sure at least three men just popped a boner while watching her. “Who says I haven’t?”  
  
“Aphrodite,” a man’s voice cuts in, and then a guy easily fifteen years older than Wynonna and three inches shorter when she’s wearing her heels grasps her shoulder, leaning against her heavily. His dark blonde hair is slicked back, and his goatee is neatly trimmed which he now presses against her cheek in a quick kiss.  
  
“Dirk,” she just says, giving the man what Mercedes can tell is a forced smile.  
  
“I believe this pretty lady bought a dance from you, not a conversation. Get to swinging those hips and giving her what she’s paid for, sweetheart.” Mercedes can hear the smack he lands on her ass but Wynonna doesn’t flinch.  
  
“Whatever you say, boss.” He grins, nodding at her and then giving Mercedes a wink, and only steps away when Wynonna closes the space between her and Mercedes. The redhead holds in her own grin as her friend once again rolls her eyes at her, the motion hidden from her boss as her hair frames her face. Wynonna bends down, grabs the bottom of the chair Mercedes is sitting in, and yanks it away from the table, making the other woman’s body jerk with the movement. Mercedes’s brow shoots up for a second, impressed; she’s by no means a heavy woman, but even so her friend is clearly stronger than she looks.  
  
Wynonna listens to the music still pumping from the speakers, waiting for the right beat to start moving to, and then her hips are hovering just above Mercedes’s lap and rolling to the rhythm of the music. Her fingers are almost instantly in her hair, making her jacket ride up, and Mercedes is fighting back a smirk as she eyes over her best friend. Wynonna turns around and Mercedes notices her spine dips into a little dimple that keeps being revealed every time the jacket moves up. The redhead’s eyes glance from it to the hands still working in brunette hair.  
  
A loud whistle pulls her attention away from the brunette and she looks around her, seeing a handful of the men at the bar and a couple of the tables closer to them eyeing them instead of the stages.  
  
“Looks like we’ve got an audience,” she comments. Wynonna looks over her shoulder at the redhead, a spark in her eye, and smirks. “How much you wanna bet every one of ‘em ends up jerking off in the bathroom in five minutes?”  
  
Mercedes chuckles and nods, sure of it. She knows she’s hot, been told as much plenty of times, and Wynonna’s a bomb even when she isn’t swinging her hips like this; that’s exactly what they’re all going to end up doing. “They’ll be carrying this around in their spank banks for years.”  
  
Wynonna snorts. Her body doesn’t stop moving as they talk, and Mercedes has to give her credit: she sure does know how to use her body. Her hips stop circling for a moment before she steps forward and bends down, her tightly-clad ass now perfectly on display and they get another whistle. When she stands up again she turns, and then she’s fully sitting on Mercedes’s lap, face to face. Her torso still moves along with the beat of the movement, never stilling entirely, and her hands move beneath her leather jacket and then run suggestively up her stomach. Mercedes’s smirk never falters as she watches every movement, her amusement clear.  
  
“You better give me one hell of a tip for this,” Wynonna tells her even as she swings her head so her hair perfectly falls over one shoulder.  
  
Mercedes shrugs one shoulder. “Eh, I’ve had better lapdances.”  
  
Wynonna’s eyes narrow. “Fuck you bitch, no you haven’t.” Even as she talks she’s shrugging out of her jacket and tosses it onto the table beside the redhead’s drink. The loss of the jacket causes more whistles, but they both ignore them. “This ass and these hips? There ain’t nothing better.”  
  
It’s true, the only person Mercedes can think of who has a better ass is herself, but she’s not about to say as much. Instead she leans back a little in her chair and looks down her friend’s body, as though she’s only partially interested in their conversation. “I suppose I could tip you. I do have a twenty, after all.”  
  
“Fuck that,” Wynonna scoffs, looking down her nose at her best friend. “We both know you’ve got at least one hundred in your wallet; I’ll take that.”  
  
This time there’s no teasing in the way Mercedes’s brow shoots up. “Excuse you, bitch?”  
  
The dancer smirks at her, her body still moving along to the beat of the music. “You heard me bitch. One hundred. Trust me, my tits are worth it.” As if to prove it, she leans forward at the same time one hand circles around to the back of Mercedes’s head and then suddenly she’s pressing her face between her breasts. The other woman’s hands end up on her hips in surprise and Wynonna laughs as she looks down at the redhead. There are more whistles than ever coming from behind them, and Wynonna grins, knowing Mercedes won’t be the only one tipping her generously tonight.  
  
When Wynonna pulls away again, Mercedes’s cheeks are a little flushed, but her expression remains impressively straight as she cocks an eyebrow up at the other woman. “Fine,” she just says as one hand moves to fix her hair. The other remains on Wynonna’s hip. “One hundred it is. But.” She holds up a finger between them. “We’re going to Shorty’s when you get off and you’re buying at least the first three rounds of shots.”  
  
“Oh honey, you’re gonna need more than just the one finger to get me off,” Wynonna purrs, leaning forward. Her tongue darts out, running a quick trail up the finger still between them, mostly just for the men watching them. Hey, she’s gotta pay rent, and if playing up a bunch of assholes’ lesbian fantasies will get her bigger tips then she’s not against doing it.  
  
The corner of Mercedes’s lips quirk up. “You don’t know how good my finger is.” She wiggles all of them at Wynonna, and the brunette just grins.  
  
The song she’s been dancing to ends and another begins, and the brunette finally stops moving. She leans back and grabs her jacket from the table and shimmies back into it. “Shorty’s; sounds good.” She stands up and ignores the groans behind her from the men who clearly wish the scene between them wouldn’t end. “I’m out in under an hour. Meet there?”  
  
Mercedes shakes her head as she reaches over and grabs her purse from the table. “Nah, I’ll wait here for you.” She rummages through the bag and pulls out her wallet. Opening it she pulls out a one hundred dollar bill and then folds it up. She crooks a finger at Wynonna and the brunette steps close again and Mercedes grabs the collar of her jacket, pulling her down. Her lips barely brush against Wynonna’s cheek as she slips the bill beneath her friend’s bra strap. Once it’s in place her hand moves to her chest to push her back again, and when she sees the look Wynonna is giving her her smirk grows. “To help with your other tips,” she explains. She looks past her friend to see that at least two or three seats are now empty that had been full during their dance. “And all drinks tonight are on you.”  
  
Wynonna lets out one quick, short snort and shakes her head. “Whatever. See you out front in an hour.”  
  
Mercedes nods and then reaches for her drink. Seeing it’s almost gone, she adds before the brunette can walk away, “I’ll have another gin and tonic, too.”  
  
“Bitch I ain’t your waitress,” Wynonna tosses over her shoulder, already walking away. Then, instead of telling Mercedes to get it herself, she yells over to the bar, “Yo, Keith, another gin and tonic over here. Move your ass.” She doesn’t wait to see if the bartender heard, just keeps walking back towards the crowd of men around the stages, adding a prominent swing to her gait. It takes no time for a couple of guys to call her over to their table, and Mercedes watches as her friend easily ends up with what she imagines is at least half of whatever was in their wallets.  
  
An hour later Mercedes has paid her tab and is waiting out in the small, dark parking lot outside of Pussy Willows. A lit cigarette dangles from her fingers, the opposite arm across her front and gripping the inside of her elbow. She can still hear the muffled noise from inside the stripper club but it’s just noise now, barely audible. Instead the night is quiet, only the sound of crickets and other country nightlife breaking through it. She hates the quiet, would take the noisy bustle of a city over it any time, and looks forward to the quickly approaching day when she’ll walk away from Purgatory for good and never come back. That day can’t come fast enough, as far as she’s concerned.  
  
The creaking of a door opening and swinging shut again interrupts her thoughts of that someday, and then there are footsteps approaching her from behind. She turns and sees Wynonna walking towards her, still very much the hot biker chick, but now she’s in a regular pair of tight jeans and she can see the flash of a shirt beneath the leather jacket she’s still wearing. She’s counting a handful of cash and Mercedes smirks.  
  
“So, how’d we do?”  
  
Wynonna mirrors the smirk, looking up at her and then shoves the cash into one of the pockets of her jacket, zipping it up after. “Girl, you should come to Pussy Willows more often. I made bank off that dance.”  
  
Mercedes preens, first taking another drag from her cigarette and then uses her pinky to flick a lock of hair back. “I do what I can,” she says as she exhales. She nods to her cigarette. “Want a smoke?”  
  
To her surprise, the other woman shakes her head. “Nah, I quit. They made my hair smell nasty.”  
  
It’s true, but has never been enough to get Mercedes to try to quit. She shrugs, and then drops what’s left of her cigarette, grinding it out with her foot. “To Shorty’s then. Need a ride?” She gestures to the little black porsche beside her, the gift her parents got her last year for graduation.  
  
Wynonna eyes the car, giving it the appreciation it deserves, but shakes her head again. “No, got my bike.” She gestures across the parking lot where about a dozen motorcycles are parked. Mercedes has no idea which one is hers, has never really understood her friend’s obsession with bikes, so now she just shrugs. “Alright. See you there, bitch.”  
  
“Later bitch.”  
  
As the redhead gets in her car, Wynonna continues across the parking lot to her bike. Once there, she gives it a quick once-over, appreciating every detail even in the dark. It’s the same Suzuki VX800 Shorty showed her years ago but now it’s her baby and she treats it like one. She bought it off the bar owner only a few months ago and hasn’t gone a day without riding it since. As always sinking into the seat feels like coming home, and she kicks the kickstand up as she starts the ignition. It roars to life beneath her and instant adrenaline pumps through Wynonna’s veins as though she’s being lit on fire and she doesn’t know if she’s ever felt more alive. She pushes her hair back over her shoulders and puts on her helmet, and then she and the bike are speeding out of the parking lot. The cool May air whips at her as she speeds off down the street, but her jacket keeps out the worst of the chill and the little that does sink through only leaves her feeling even more alive.  
  
It doesn’t take long to get to Shorty’s and it’s almost disappointing when she shuts the ignition off, kicking out the kickstand as she does. She shakes out her hair as soon as the helmet is off and then she’s hanging it off one of the handlebars before swinging one leg over the bike. She can see Mercedes already waiting for her by the bar’s entrance so she makes her way over, but just as she reaches her friend the door opens and one of her least favorite people in Purgatory walks out - and she has a long, long list of people she can’t stand.  
  
Randy Nedley eyes her over, looking just about as happy to see her as she is to see him.  
  
“Wynonna. Haven’t seen you for a day or two; been staying outta trouble?”  
  
Wynonna cocks her head to the side, flashing an obviously fake smile at him. “Nedley. What about you, been staying outta the desserts? You’re looking a little rotund.” She pats her own stomach for emphasis as faux sympathy flashes across her face.  
  
Nedley’s brow raises, unimpressed or surprised by the answer. “I’ll take that as a no. Should I pat you down, just to keep with tradition?”  
  
Ever since she was caught with those drugs at sixteen there have been numerous pat-downs, and more often than not he’s found something on her that ended with her staying in the Purgatory holding cell for a night or two. Right now she just shakes her head. “Tch, better not. We both know you’re gettin’ up there in years, too many more pat-downs are bound to put you in the ground. We wouldn’t want Purgatory to need a new sheriff when you’re only just now getting the hang of this thing.”  
  
He eyes her for a long second, as though still considering it, but then looks over to Mercedes and tips his hat to her. “It’s good to see you back here, Mercedes.” Neither of them can tell if he’s serious or not, considering Mercedes was by Wynonna’s side for at least a third of all the trouble she got into throughout high school. Looking between them he tips his hat again, telling them, “You girls stay outta trouble tonight, ya hear? If you don’t, the holding cell’ll be waiting for you.” He’s looking at Wynonna as he says the last part and she just gives him a look, wrinkling her nose at him as her teeth clench into an even harder smile. With that he leaves, moseying down the road and likely making his way back to the police station.  
  
“I see you two love each other just as much as ever,” Mercedes observes and Wynonna just gives her a look.  
  
“Oh yeah, we’d each love to see the other run over by a monster truck or two,” she mutters and then pushes the door open. A wave of noise crashes over them and Wynonna leads the way into the bar, Mercedes right behind her.  
  
It’s a Thursday night, which means it isn’t as packed as it would be if it were the weekend, but the space is still fairly crowded. There are only a couple of empty tables in the room, and only a handful of chairs are open at the bar. Wynonna leads the way over to a couple of them, eyeing around the space as she goes. She recognizes most of the people in the room, but one of them catches her focus more than the rest. Waverly is sitting at one end of the bar, a textbook open in front of her along with a notebook and she goes back and forth from one to the other, her attention wrapped up in whatever she’s studying. There’s a basket of fries beside her, but only half appear to be gone, the rest all but ignored now that whatever she’s studying has caught her interest. Wynonna shakes her head, her lips curling up a little as she looks at her sister; she looks more absorbed in whatever she’s reading about than Wynonna ever was with any subject in her twelve long years of school. She leaves her sister to it, and slips into one of the empty stools at the other end of the bar. Mercedes slips into the one next to it and then rolls her shoulders, letting the light jacket she’s wearing fall to the back of the stool.  
  
Shorty’s behind the bar, pouring out a couple of beers into a few mugs, but he nods when he notices them. “What can I get ya, ladies?”  
  
“Two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila, Shorty,” Wynonna tells him, ordering for them both. He just nods and then focuses back on the beers in front of him. He has to deliver those, but is back within minutes and as soon as he is he turns around, grabbing a bottle of tequila and the two shot glasses, and then he’s placing them in front of the two women.  
  
“Thanks Shorty,” she says, giving him a nod as Mercedes grabs the bottle and pours out two shots. He smiles at her and nods back, and then someone a few stools down calls out to get his attention and he’s off again.  
  
“There,” Mercedes says, setting the bottle back down and then grabbing both of the now full shot glasses. Holding them out between them, she continues, “This is more like it. Cheers, be-otch.”  
  
“Cheers,” Wynonna echoes, taking one of the glasses and they clink them together before tossing both back. The heat of the alcohol drops straight to the bottom of her stomach and Wynonna loves it, even as her head shakes. “Ahhh.”  
  
“So,” Mercedes begins, already pouring out their second shot. “You still banging Pete?” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, clinks their glasses together again, and throws back the second shot.  
  
Wynonna follows suit, letting the liquor wash away yet another day of grinding on a pole for the viewing pleasure of Purgatory’s biggest perves. She shrugs as she smacks her lips, eyes now trailing around the room.  
  
“Nah. We broke up like, I don’t know, two months ago? A little more, maybe.”  
  
“He get boring?”  
  
A noise close to a scoff rolls up the back of her throat and she raises her eyebrows at her friend. “Don’t they all, eventually?” Mercedes shrugs, conceding, and Wynonna’s grin grows before she taps her fingers idly on the bar. “I may or may not have slept with his brother. He never found out, but.” She shrugs. “Decided the York boys just weren’t for me. Too…” She gestures vaguely in front of her.  
  
“Damn, look at you, slut,” Mercedes says, but the way the corners of her lips quirk up is enough for Wynonna to know she’s joking, at least a little. “Kudos to you.” A third shot is poured, and Wynonna lifts hers with a quirk of an eyebrow and smirk. “Slowly making your way through the men of Purgatory.”  
  
“Not too many left after how many we went through in high school.” Wynonna raises her glass in a toast and Mercedes mirrors it.  
  
“Now you just need to get out of this hellhole,” Mercedes tells her after taking her third shot. Looking around, her nose wrinkles. “Trust me, there’s a whole world of men out there, all of them better than this.”  
  
Wynonna places her empty shot glass back on the bar, but she doesn’t let go, instead twirls it in her fingers. “Trust me, I’m working on it. There’s nothing I want more than to get out of here.” Even now she can feel eyes on her, neighbors and strangers who think they know everything about her always watching, and she hates it now just as much as she did when she was thirteen. Every penny she makes at Pussy Willows is going towards getting out - well, that and booze.  
  
Their conversation continues, only interrupted by shots whenever one of them pours out the next one, and as they talk Wynonna goes back to looking around the bar. Waverly continues to work on her homework in her corner but now she looks up every now and then and one such time happens to catch Wynonna’s eyes. It’s been at least a week since Wynonna last saw her sister and a part of her wants nothing more than to leave Mercedes and go over to the girl, but she remains on her stool. Despite how much she misses her she still knows Waverly is better off without her, so she tries to keep the distance between them as often as possible. The only time of year she lets herself break her rule is Christmas when she always ends up at her aunt and uncle’s house, the two sisters ending up curled together on the couch and playing ridiculous games with Gus and Curtis. It’s the most domestic time of the year for Wynonna, and the rest of the year is spent trying to keep at least some distance between herself and what family she has left.  
  
Thinking about those times now only makes the desire to go over stronger, so Wynonna pushes the thoughts back with another shot and then continues to look around the space. There are a couple of guys who graduated a couple years before Wynonna and Mercedes at one table, laughing and shouting as they clank their beers together. At another table she finds Jimmy Knowles - her fifth foster father, if she’s remembering correctly - sitting with three of his buddies. Two tables are pushed together and eight men all clad in various states of leather surround them, a matching symbol stitched into the back of all of their jackets. Wynonna recognizes the symbol and marks them as members of the Banditos, Purgatory’s most infamous biker gang. The few people at the tables around them eye them warily, but they’re being quieter than a lot of the other people in the place, so Wynonna couldn’t care less that they’re there.  
  
For the most part it’s a typical bar scene, with one annoying exception. Two guys - strangers, Wynonna knows since she doesn’t recognize them - are at one of the pool tables and wiping the floor with their opponents, another couple of guys Wynonna remembers from high school. They too would be just another part of the typical bar scene if they weren’t loudly laughing every time one of their opponents missed their shot, or cheering and jeering loudly every time they sunk a ball. When their opponents lose, scratching on the eight ball, that jeering only intensifies and then they’re grabbing the pile of twenties sitting on the side of the table.  
  
“Ha, and here I thought a couple of backyard hicks would be good at this,” one of them, a guy with dark hair and darker eyes, states loudly, flashing a grin and looking around as though he’s addressing the entire room. He’s wearing a dark blue button up and he straightens it as though it had fallen out of place, and then brushes one hand down his abdomen to smooth out imaginary wrinkles.  
  
“Nah, they’re clearly just pathetic rednecks,” his friend, blonde and blue eyed, responds, matching his grin. He’s the one counting out their winnings, and then slips the pile of twenties into one of the pockets of his perfectly fitting jeans. He rolls his shoulders then in a lazy rotation, eyeing around the room. “Anyone else want to take us on? Come on, we’re just a couple of city boys, who thinks they can beat us?”  
  
They’re lucky the Banditos appear to be ignoring them completely, but many of the others in the room are clearly listening, and Wynonna can see plenty of white knuckles around beer glasses. These two idiots will be lucky if they make it out of the bar without so much as a black eye and the corners of her lips quirk, looking forward to that show. She turns to focus back in on her conversation with Mercedes, but as she moves she happens to look back over at her sister. Waverly’s scowling, one hand clenching tightly to the pencil she was using to write with, and she’s glaring at the two idiots by the pool table. She must feel Wynonna’s eyes on her because she suddenly looks directly at her sister, and Wynonna raises an eyebrow at her. Waverly looks at her for a second and then shifts her gaze back to the idiots, and Wynonna watches as her scowl shifts into a grin. She looks back pointedly at her sister and ticks up her own eyebrow. The older brunette looks back and forth from the idiots still egging on the room to her sister, and it takes no more than a second or two for her to guess what Waverly’s thinking. Slowly her lips curl up, and then she’s giving the other girl a subtle nod. Waverly’s grin grows and then she turns back down to her homework. To anyone else it might look like she’s actually absorbed in it once again, but Wynonna knows better and fights against it as her grin threatens to grow.  
  
She tosses back the shot Mercedes has just poured for her, and then turns her stool towards the pool tables. “I’ll give it a shot,” she loudly calls, drawing all attention to her. Both of the guys look at her, surprised, and she just bats her eyelashes at them as she jumps down from her stool, making sure to add a little oomph to the movement. She smiles sweetly at them, and then grabs one of the pool sticks one of their opponents dropped to the table after they lost. When neither of them say anything, she bats her eyelashes again. “Well?”  
  
“Well hello beautiful,” the one with dark hair says, taking a step towards her. “I can think of better things we could be doing than playing pool.”  
  
He reaches out to place one hand on her hip, but Wynonna side steps it at the last moment. “Uh ah, thought you two boys were looking for someone to play against?”  
  
“Oh baby, I’d play all kinds of things with you,” the blonde tells her, and Wynonna fights down the urge to roll her eyes.  
  
“Let’s start with pool, then we can see where the night takes us.” She winks at them and they share a smirk, one that only makes her want to roll her eyes more.  
  
“We don’t play for free, baby,” Blondey says, leaning against the table. One hand is still holding his pool stick and the other crosses to rest against the other arm. “So what will you play for?”  
  
Wynonna pretends to think about it for a second, tapping one finger against her chin. “How about if I win, I get all of your winnings from tonight?”  
  
Blue Button-up crosses his arms over his chest, smirking smugly at her. Clearly he doesn’t expect that to happen. “And if we win?”  
  
She shrugs, and then closes the space between them, making sure to swing her hips as she moves. She trails her fingers over the buttons of his shirt and then looks up at him through her eyelashes. “If you win, I’ll take you both out back and get on my knees for you. How about that?” She winks at him as her hand trails back down, fingers running briefly over his belt, her meaning all too clear to them both.  
  
It’s all the bait she needs; Blue Button-up smirks and Blondey bites his bottom lip, his eyes trailing down her body. “Sounds like a good deal to me.”  
  
“Who’s gonna be your partner?” Blue Button-up asks, and then his eyes trail behind her back to where she’d been sitting. “Your friend over there?”  
  
Wynonna doesn’t have to turn around to know Mercedes is watching this all unfold, her amusement likely evident on her face. “No,” she tells them, shrugging, “Mercedes’s talents don’t include pool. Waverly!”  
  
She shouts her sister’s name as she looks over her shoulder, and sees her sister jump. Waverly appears to be so surprised that she knocks over the water that had been sitting beside her, the liquid pouring across the bar and dripping to the floor. She snatches up her textbook just in time to save it.  
  
“Fiddlesticks,” Waverly cries, and a moment later Shorty is across from her, handing her a wad of napkins. “Thanks Shorty.” She wipes up the water quickly, flashing those around her a sheepish smile, and then jumps off of her stool and quickly makes her way over to her sister. “What do you need, Wynonna?”  
  
Blue Button-up raises his eyebrows and isn’t able to hold in a bark of laughter. “ _She’s_ your partner?” Blondey looks like he’s fighting a bout of laughter as well, but Wynonna ignores them both and tosses an arm over her sister’s shoulders.  
  
“What do you say to a friendly game of pool, Waves?” she asks, as if this whole thing wasn’t Waverly’s idea to start with. Her little sister eyes the pool table, the two guys looking down at her with badly concealed amusement, and then back to her. She shrugs, Wynonna’s arm moving with the movement. “Sure, sounds like fun!”  
  
“You sure you want to do this?” Blondey asks, even as he and his friend step back to get the table ready. His eyes flicker down to Waverly and his lips twitch. “There’s still time to back out. If you forfeit now we could even go somewhere nicer than the alley out back.”  
  
Waverly frowns at that, eyes darting up to Wynonna, but the elder Earp waves the offer off. “I don’t forfeit. Now put the money on the table.” He just shrugs, clearly thinking she’s made a very big mistake, but takes the wad of cash out of his pocket and sets it back onto the edge of the pool table.  
  
The guys get the table ready, the balls racked, and then Button-up nods to them, gesturing to the table. “Go ahead, we’ll even let you break.”  
  
“Start us off, baby girl,” Wynonna says, not breaking eye contact with him. She holds his gaze, refusing to look away, as Waverly grabs her stick and sets herself up at the opposite end of the table. She slides the tip of the stick between her fingers a few times, making a few practice motions as she stretches her neck, and then she’s leaning over the table. Wynonna hears the crack of the cue ball hitting the point of the triangle, and only then does she break eye contact, turning just in time to see the eleven ball sink into a corner pocket. “Huh. Would you look at that? Good start, Waverly, looks like we’re stripes.”  
  
“Thanks Wynonna!” Waverly responds, flashing her an innocent smile. “I’ve been practicing.”  
  
The smirks wipe off of Blondey and Button-up’s faces, and now it’s Wynonna who is smirking.  
  
The game continues and the guys try, they really do, but it’s clear from the very beginning who’s winning this game. The majority of the people in the bar could have warned them not to play against one Earp let alone two, but nobody did and now it feels like every person in there is watching the game unfold, smirks and grins on just about everyone’s face. About halfway through the game Wynonna steps back over to the bar, throwing back another shot of tequila, and as she does she catches Mercedes’s eyes and her smirk just grows.  
  
Waverly sinks their last stripe, and when it’s Wynonna’s turn again she steps up to the table, eyeing the eight ball. There are two solids still on the table, one of them directly in the path of the cue ball, so she studies the table a little longer, weighing her options. She can see Blondey shift from one foot to the other nervously from the corner of her eye but ignores it. Finally she points her stick out towards one of the far corner pockets. “Left corner pocket.” She sets up her shot, waits until it feels just right, and then shoots.  
  
The cue ball jumps forward, bouncing off one edge of the table and ricocheting to the other, and then rams into the eight ball. They all watch, breaths held, as it rolls down the table. It slows down and Wynonna’s grip on her pool stick tightens, but then it rolls right into the left corner pocket, and she’s whooping.  
  
“And that’s how it’s done!” she cries, jumping back away from the table. Turning, she points at the two guys, both of them glaring at the table. “That’s right bitch, oh yeah! Suck it!” Waverly is cheering too, quickly rising up on her toes and falling back down again over and over, and Wynonna hurries over to her, wrapping an arm over her shoulders again. “Excellent game little sister!”  
  
“You too, Wynonna!” Waverly tells her, one of her arms wrapping around her sister’s waist and Wynonna presses a loud kiss to the top of her head. The elder Earp looks back to the table then, eyes flicking to the money still sitting on its edge.  
  
“And now you are mine, beautiful,” she mutters, releasing her hold on her sister to go grab it. Her fingers close around the bills and immediately after a hand closes around her wrist, gripping it painfully. She shoots a glare up at Blondey, the one grabbing her. “What the hell, asshole?”  
  
“You cheated,” he growls, and Button-up nods, stepping up behind him. “I don’t give my money to cheaters.”  
  
“How the hell could we have possibly cheated?” Wynonna rolls her eyes. Out of the corner of her eye she notices Waverly step up beside her and she shifts closer to her despite the firm grip the guy still has on her wrist. “Now let go, or I’ll make you.”  
  
Blondey lets out a bark of laughter. “Yeah right, like you could girlie. Now let go of our money before _I_ make _you_.”  
  
“And cheating means you still owe us that special show out back,” Button-up adds, one corner of his mouth pulling up. His eyes trail down to Waverly and Wynonna very much notices the way he looks at her. “Little sister can come too. We’re not picky.” He reaches out, two fingers lightly trailing down her cheek and Waverly jerks away, giving him a glare.  
  
“Don’t touch me, shit ticket. And let go of my sister!”  
  
Wynonna doesn’t even hear the words. The second the asshole touches Waverly all she can see is red and she’s moving before she even knows what she’s doing. The money drops out of her hand and she jerks her wrist away, a flash of surprise crossing Blondey’s face at her strength. Before anyone can register anything else, Wynonna has the pool stick she’s still holding in both hands, and she’s slamming it down across Button-up’s face. There’s a sickening crunch and he goes down even as Blondey jumps back, desperately trying to get out of the way.  
  
“You crazy bitch!” he screeches, looking down at his friend. The other guy is conscious but clearly dazed, and blood is freely flowing from a broken nose and where his skin has broken open across one cheek.  
  
“Wynonna!” Waverly cries, grabbing one of her elbows, but Wynonna shakes her off.  
  
“She’s _thirteen_ you disgusting piece of shit! Try to touch her again and I’ll knock your fucking lights out!”  
  
“Wynonna!” Shorty is beside her suddenly, reaching out and grabbing the pool stick. “That’s enough!”  
  
“You, you crazy…” Button-up spits out a mouthful of blood and then Blondey’s helping him up, the darker-haired man trembling and blinking. His entire face is red except for where a bruise is already starting to form around his nose and cheek. “... _bitch_.” He spits the word out, as though Wynonna hasn’t been called worse. He points at her, his finger shaking. “You’re gonna regret this. I’m gonna see you fucking rot in jail for this, this, this assault! Everyone witnessed it, you’re fucked!”  
  
“Shit, Wynonna,” Waverly whimpers, tugging at her sister’s arm again. This time Wynonna doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t breakdown under either of the smug looks directed at her. They’re clearly expecting her to beg for their forgiveness, to prostrate herself at their feet, but that sure as _hell_ isn’t about to happen. She just glares at them, the desire to hit them both over and over again with the pool stick she’s no longer holding flooding through her. Her feet remain rooted in place, but her hands curl into fists by her sides.  
  
“Don’t think she is.”  
  
Someone speaks up, and Wynonna frowns, not recognizing the voice. She turns, and it’s as if the entire bar holds its breath as one of the men at the Banditos’ table rises. Just his size alone is intimidating - he’s easily over six feet and built like a mountain - but what really makes both men step back are the tattoos on his face. Black ink is etched across his temples and forehead, running down his cheeks and chin, and Wynonna can easily say she’s never seen anyone with satanic tattoos on their face before this, but now that’s something she can cross off her bucket list. He steps towards them, stopping not too far from where Wynonna’s still standing. He raises an eyebrow at the two guys, the inked mask along his face shifting with the movement, only making him more intimidating.  
  
“You tried to touch a kid. We don’t take kindly to that kind of shit here.” He takes another step towards them and both men shrink back. “Now you’re gonna pay your tab and get the hell outta our town. If you’re still around in the morning, me and my friends will find you, and then you just might not be able to leave. We find out you tried going to the police, we’ll still find you. Got it?” Blondey and Button-up both nod and the Bandito mountain returns it. “Good. Now get.”  
  
Blondey reaches into his pocket, grabs another few bills, drops them on the pool table, and then the two of them are gone, pushing their way through the crowd and making for the exit as quickly as they possibly can. Shorty starts gathering up the money from the floor and table, but Wynonna watches them go and then turns to the man still standing by her. He notices and then winks, flashing her a smirk.  
  
“Happy to help,” he just says, and Wynonna’s eyes narrow.  
  
“Didn’t ask for your help.”  
  
He shrugs. “Didn’t need to. Those assholes had it coming.” He nods to the pool stick Shorty is still holding. “That was one hell of a hit. Phil.” He sticks his hand out to her, still smirking.  
  
She hesitates for just a moment and then clasps it in her own. “Wynonna.”  
  
“Oh, I know. We’ve heard a lot about you.” He nods back to the rest of his gang, all still sitting around their tables, very few of them paying their friend any kind of attention now that the entertainment is over. “We’ll be seeing you around, Wynonna Earp.” With one more grip he releases her hand and then turns around, making his way back to his friends. Wynonna watches him go, wondering exactly what that was supposed to mean.  
  
Waverly must see her watching him and think it’s for another reason because she pokes her sister in her side, hard. Wynonna yelps and rubs at the spot, shooting a glare down at her sister. “What the hell, Waverly?”  
  
“No, Wynonna,” she just says, glaring up at her. “No way. You can’t get with a Bandito!”  
  
“She’s right,” Shorty puts in, tossing the pool stick back on the table. He nods for them to follow him and they go back to the bar. “The Banditos are trouble, Wynonna, and not the kind of trouble you usually get in. They’re a whole different ballpark of trouble.”  
  
“He is kind of sexy though,” Mercedes adds, tilting her head to the side slightly as she stares at Phil where he just sat back at his table. Clearly she heard enough of their conversation to decide to butt-in. “Underneath all that ink, I mean.”  
  
“Mercedes!” Waverly exclaims, shooting her glare at the redhead and then turning it right back on her sister. “The Banditos are bad news Wynonna, you really need to stay away from them.”  
  
“Who said I was gonna go near them?” Wynonna demands, shooting a look at her sister. “I didn’t ask him to help, I don’t owe him shit.” Movement across the bar makes her look away, and she finds Shorty placing a pile of bills between their shot glasses. He taps the bills and raises a single eyebrow at her.  
  
“You’re right, you don’t. Best to remember that and keep your distance.” He gestures then to the books still at the other end of the bar and turns his gaze to Waverly. “Waverly, better get your stuff packed up, your uncle’s likely to be here soon.”  
  
Waverly looks at her things and then back to her sister, worry clearly written out across her face. “Just stay away from the Banditos, okay Wynonna?”  
  
The elder Earp gives her a lazy grin. “Wynonna Earp has never needed a gang before, I don’t need one now either. Here.” She grabs two of the twenty dollar bills from the pile and holds them out to her sister. “Your take from the game. You kicked ass, baby girl.”  
  
That at least gets a small smile, and Waverly takes the money. She looks at it for a second and then pockets it. “How’d you know I’d be any good?” she wants to know, looking up at the other brunette through her eyelashes. “It’s been years since you’ve seen me play, and I wasn’t any good back then.”  
  
Wynonna shrugs, but her grin grows a little. “Doesn’t matter; you’re an Earp, means it’s in your blood. I never doubted we’d sweep the floor with them for a second.” She winks at Waverly who smiles back, shakes her head, and then reaches out, her arms wrapping around her sister’s waist.  
  
“Thanks, Nonna,” she murmurs. “Tonight was fun. Most of it, anyway.” Wynonna just nods and then Waverly turns and hurries back to her spot at the bar, starting to pull her books into a pile.  
  
Shorty watches the interaction between the sisters, a little smile on his lips. He grabs a third shot glass and then pours out another round of shots. Handing one to Wynonna, he lifts the other one up, as though in toast.  
  
“You’re a good girl, Wynonna. You just remember that.” He tosses the drink back and then moves on, shifting his smile to the patrons a few seats over, quickly falling into whatever conversation they’re having.  
  
“Hmm,” Mercedes sighs, “I don’t know if ‘good’ is the word I’d use, but.” She shrugs. “You sure are something, Wynonna Earp.” She downs her shot, making a noise as the alcohol hits the back of her throat, and then shakes her head. “I still say he’s kinda sexy though.”  
  
Wynonna’s eyes trail over to where the Bandito - Phil - is sitting with his friends, and watches as he laughs at something. Mercedes isn’t wrong, and she’d be lying if she said something inside her wasn’t pulling her towards him, and she knows whatever it is is more than just attraction. With Mercedes gone to college, Wynonna really is alone in Purgatory, and despite what she told Waverly, it’s hard not to get a little lost in the loneliness that comes with it.  
  
She takes her shot, and the alcohol falls right into the empty place in her gut she’s spent years trying to fill. Alcohol hasn’t worked, but maybe a gang at her back just might do it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for only updating once last week, I had some sudden family stuff that took up a lot of my time so I didn't get to write as much as usual. I should be able to go back to two updates a week now, though.

Norwegian death metal; not Wynonna’s first choice for music, but it sure does make Phil horny. The music blares from the van’s speakers and his mouth moves down the length of her neck, nipping and biting lightly at her skin. Her chest rises and falls quickly, heart pounding, and after a few seconds she grabs a fistful of his long hair and drags his face back up to hers, pulling him into a deep kiss. His hands have slipped under her shirt behind her as she straddles his lap, and one of hers remains in his hair while the other pushes up under his shirt to run across his chest.  
  
“Fuck,” Phil mutters, pulling back enough to let his head fall back against the back of his seat. There’s a grin on his lips and Wynonna stares at them, returning it. “Where the fuck’ve you been all my life?”  
  
Wynonna shrugs one shoulder, her grin growing. “Mostly therapy. A little juvie. A sprinkling of the crazy bin.” He chuckles, shakes his head, and then pulls her closer to him and captures her mouth in another hard kiss. The music continues blaring around them and their hands keep moving just as much as their mouths. Anyone walking by the van right then would clearly know better than to approach it or risk getting an eyeful.  
  
Before they can start ripping each other’s clothes off, a burst of static comes from the walkie talkie laying on what was Wynonna’s seat before she ditched it for Phil’s lap.  
  
“Yo, it’s time. You two better not be screwing, there’s work to do. Let’s go.”  
  
Phil groans as his head falls back again. “Fuck Jace. That asshole always has the worst timing.”  
  
Wynonna smirks, quirking an eyebrow up. “Get the job done, then you can fuck me instead.” She winks and one corner of his mouth curls up into a grin.  
  
“Well then let’s get this shit done.” They both reach over to the seat, and Wynonna grabs one of the black ski masks while Phil grabs the second, taking the walkie talkie along with it. Pressing the button, he holds it up and says, “Here we come, fuckers.”  
  
They both pull on their masks and then Phil opens the car door and they’re both stepping out into the street. It’s deserted enough that they don’t draw any attention but even so Wynonna makes sure to keep her head down. The mask is too hot for August in Purgatory but she’s way too recognizable to go without it, and it’s just as likely that the quick pounding of her heart is what is causing sweat to begin to bead at her temples as the mask.  
  
Another masked Bandito is waiting for them at the entrance to Bleaker’s, Purgatory’s finest antique shop. He’s standing behind one of the double doors and when he sees them he opens it. As she steps inside Wynonna hears him mutter, “About friggin time.”  
  
“Miss me, Mickey?” Wynonna asks with a wink and he glares at her from behind his own mask.  
  
“No names,” he growls and she just rolls her eyes, smirking. Once they are both inside he pulls the door shut behind them, securely locking it. “Let’s go, this way.”  
  
He leads them further into the store. There are shelves and shelves stacked high with useless junk, all old but in decent enough condition. None of it is what they’re there for though, and he ushers them past it to the back of the store. At the back they find Jace and Stix, the rest of their crew for this particular job. Stix is standing over the three people who had been unfortunate enough to be in the store before the hit began; the store owner, a man probably in his mid-sixties, and two women, one who looks to be in her late forties and the other probably mid-thirties. They’re cowering together on the floor, eyes darting from one masked figure to the next, all huddled close. Jace is standing by the glass display case, its door open. He rummages through the jewelry there but jerks his head back when he seems them coming.  
  
“It’s back here,” he just says and then looks at Wynonna directly. “Get to work, magic fingers.”  
  
“You know it,” she answers, wiggling her fingers at him, and then heads around the counter, sparing just a quick glance at the three people on the floor. She can clearly see their terror and notices how they all keep glancing at the gun Stix is holding. Jace’s is on the counter beside him and Mickey’s is stuffed into his pants. Neither she nor Phil are carrying one, Phil because he’s plenty intimidating without one, and her because she refuses to touch a gun. Nobody pushed her too hard on it when she told the crew she wouldn’t take one; after all, being the muscle isn’t her job. She’s here for something far more delicate.  
  
There’s some old painting hanging on the wall behind the counter and she rolls her eyes when she sees it. Some things are too cliche for words. Reaching behind her, she grabs the black gloves shoved into her back pocket and pulls them out, slipping them over her hands. She carefully pulls down the painting, and just as she expected, a steel safe door stares back at her.  
  
“Hello beautiful,” she whispers, running two fingers down its center. “You and me are about to get real close.”  
  
Phil is leaning against the counter not far away and grins at her. “Should we leave you two alone?” Wynonna smirks and gives him a little shrug as she reaches beneath the collar of her leather jacket and pulls out the stethoscope that’s been hanging over the back of her neck.  
  
“Probably,” she tells him as she settles the earbuds in place. “Now shut up, I’mma ‘bout to get in this beauty.” He holds up his hands and steps back, deciding to go over the shelves to see if there’s anything else worth taking.  
  
Wynonna focuses her attention on the safe, placing the bell of the stethoscope to the door. Carefully she turns the dial clockwise a few times to disengage the wheels, and then begins the slow process of listening as she tries to figure out the combination. It’s long and tedious, and before long the back of her neck begins to ache from bending forward for so long, but she doesn’t take her attention from the safe. She’s come a long way from tripping as she tried to leave the Streadson’s house six years ago and has picked up more than a couple of handy tricks along the way, a couple of which she utilizes now. It didn’t take her long when she joined the Banditos a couple of months ago to realize it was these tricks they really wanted, but she can’t say she hasn’t enjoyed using them, and there are a few other perks that have come with her new crew. Overall she’s been having fun and raked in more cash these past few months than she could have possibly dreamt of seeing at Pussy Willows and hasn’t had to put up with all the old perverts staring at her, so really it has kind of been a win-win.  
  
She has no idea how long she’s been standing there by the time she finally hears the a tiny _click_ of the final notch falling into place, and when she tugs lightly at the handle of the safe the door gives, swinging open. She lets out a whoop of victory and pulls it the rest of the way open even as she yanks the earbuds out of her ears.  
  
“Alrighty boys, she’s open,” she calls, turning to flash a grin at the guys but the moment she sees them she can tell something has gone wrong. Mickey’s pacing, constantly glancing towards the front door, while Stix and Phil are pulling the store owner and two customers to their feet and pushing them forward. “What’s going on?”  
  
“Cops are here,” Jace tells her, stepping over from where he’d been stuffing jewelry into a small sack. He reaches into the now open safe, grabbing at the jewelry inside, all diamonds and pearls and even a few rubies, all pieces that should get them a nice profit once they hawk them.  
  
“Shit.” Wynonna’s heart starts to race again, adrenaline instantly coursing through her. She knows exactly what will happen if they’re caught, and she highly doubts prison will be any better than juvie was.  
  
“No worries babe, we’ll be fine,” Phil says, flashing her a grin over his shoulder. He nudges the store owner’s shoulder. “We got them; the cops won’t storm in if they think any hostages might get hurt.”  
  
The older woman whimpers and shrinks back, but Stix pushes her back into place with the other two. Wynonna can see now that they’ve pushed the hostages into a line, setting them between the Banditos and the front of the store. It makes something in her gut roll, but she ignores it.  
  
“Alright, so what’s the plan?”  
  
Just as the words come out of her mouth, the phone hanging up on the wall behind the counter rings and they all look at it. On the third ring Jace grabs it, even as he tosses the bag of jewelry to Phil.  
  
“What do you want?” he answers it, turning and glancing towards the front of the store where Wynonna knows the police are likely stationed. She can hear noise on the other end but can’t make out what is being said, and after a few seconds Jace cuts them off. “No no, here’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t want anything to happen to our hostages. We’re gonna go out the front door, get into our van, and drive outta here, and you’re gonna let us. Any of you try to get near us or stop us and I’ll blow Mr. Bleaker here’s head off. Then if I gotta I’ll move onto the other two.”  
  
The older woman whimpers again and there are silent tears running down the younger woman’s face. Again something shifts in Wynonna’s gut and she moves to the other side of the counter, solely because she can’t stand still.  
  
Whoever is talking on the other end of the line must be trying to talk Jace out of it but he shakes his head and suddenly yells, “Hey! This ain’t a compromise: you do as I said, let us leave, and no one gets hurt. Anythin’ else and we will shoot. That’s it.” He slams the phone back into the receiver, effectively ending the communication.  
  
“You think they’re gonna listen?” Mickey asks, still watching the door. He’s standing right behind the store owner, peering over his shoulder. Wynonna doesn’t like how jittery he is and her eyes flick down to the gun he’s now holding. It’s down by his side but his grip on it is too tight, and she doesn’t doubt for a second he’ll start shooting if the cops decide to barge in. If that happens any of them could end up dead, and the longer they wait here the better the chance that’s exactly what will happen.  
  
“Only one way to find out,” she mutters, stepping forward. She moves up beside him and lightly nudges the older woman’s shoulder. “Hands up, all of you. You listen, don’t try anything, and you’ll be fine.” The woman’s hands are instantly in the air, the other two quickly following her. “Good.” She looks back to the rest of the Banditos, jerking her head at them. “Well what are we waiting for? We wouldn’t want to keep our friends outside waiting. The anticipation must be killing them.” She smirks, the motion partially hidden beneath her mask.  
  
Phil chuckles, shaking his head, and them moves up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist for just a second. “God you’re sexy when you’re ready to take on the law.”  
  
“I’m always sexy,” she says offhand but is already looking over to Stix, standing a few feet away still and Jace, still behind the counter. “Let’s got, assholes.”  
  
She’s sure Jace wants to say something but he doesn’t, and then he and Stix are with them, crowding behind the three hostages. The entire group makes its way towards the front of the store, Mickey’s gun pressing into the younger woman’s back and Jace’s pressing into the store owner’s. When they reach the door Wynonna nudges the woman in front of her lightly again. “Unlock it. Slowly. Remember, you do as we say and stay calm and you’ll be fine.”  
  
The woman’s fingers are trembling so bad it takes her a few times to finally get the door unlocked and guilt swirls beneath the adrenaline coursing through Wynonna’s system but she doesn’t have time for it. She pushes it down, and once the door is unlocked they urge the three hostages forward, all carefully squeezing through the double doors as a condensed unit.  
  
Stepping out into the sunlight, she blinks, even as she pushes up closer to the woman in front of her. Two squad cars are parked across the street, and she can see Nedley behind one of them, his revolver pointed directly at their group. Matty, Purgatory’s newest rookie cop, is behind the second one, and even from here she thinks she can see his arms shaking as he holds his own gun out, and wants to roll her eyes; Purgatory really needs to up its standards when it comes to their law enforcement.  
  
“Easy there,” Nedley shouts at them, his own hands perfectly still. “This doesn’t need to turn into any kind of shootout, let’s just talk ‘bout all this.”  
  
“We already talked,” Jace calls from his position behind the store owner. He’s practically attached to the poor man, just barely peeking around him. Mickey is just as close to the other woman, and Stix and Phil are crouched behind them, giving the cops as small a target as possible. “Now we’re gonna get in our van, and you’re gonna let us.”  
  
“Now I can’t do that, but if you all drop your weapons and let your hostages go, I can tell the judge you all cooperated.”  
  
Jace snorts. “See now, I don’t think you’re in the position to be telling the judge anything. Seems we got the goods here. Unless you want these three dead?” He lifts his gun higher, pressing the muzzle to the old man’s temple and Wynonna hears the man start praying frantically. She clenches her teeth but doesn’t move, just looks between Jace and Nedley.  
  
The sheriff hesitates for a second, and then he’s raising his hands in the air. “Alright, easy there son, there’s no need for that. No one needs to get hurt here.” His rookie slowly follows his lead, glancing at Nedley before his arms are up too.  
  
The Bandito crew is slowly moving towards the van behind them, none of them ever taking their eyes off of the two cops. When they reach it, Jace says quietly, “Stix, check the van, make sure no one’s waiting in there for us.” Stix nods and then throws the side door open, his gun up and pointing inside within a second. He climbs in and scopes it out, then calls out the all clear.  
  
“Alright,” Jace continues, and his voice raises again so Nedley and Matty can easily hear as well. “Now we’re gonna get in the van.” He gestures to the store owner and the woman in front of Mickey. “Once we’re all inside, you can have these two. This one though,” he points his gun at the woman in front of Wynonna, “she’s coming with us. She’s driving us outta here, and if anyone tries to follow us. Pwew.” He pretends to pull the trigger by her head, and the woman lets out a sob, nearly falling to the ground. The only thing that keeps her up is Wynonna’s hands on her back. She grasps the back of her shirt, hoping that it gives her any kind of comfort, but knows it probably feels just as threatening as Jace’s gun by her head. “You got it?”  
  
Nedley’s quiet for a moment, eyes trailing over their group, and even with her mask on Wynonna feels like he can see right through her. No one moves until he finally nods.  
  
“Alright,” he says. “We’ll let you go, but you gotta leave all three of ‘em. You do that you can drive out of here now.”  
  
Jace presses the muzzle of his gun to the woman’s head and the little cry she gives tugs at Wynonna’s heart. “That’s not what I said, old man. She stays with us or she dies here and now. You’re choice.”  
  
When he increases the pressure and she gives another little cry Nedley quickly nods. “Alright. Alright. You take her, but you don’t hurt her. Once you’re outta here you let her go. Yeah?”  
  
“Sure sheriff,” Jace replies, a teasing edge in his voice. He then nods back towards the van. “Let’s go.”  
  
Mickey quickly follows the order, hurrying into the van as though he thinks someone will manage to shoot him during the split second he’s away from his human shield. Phil follows him and Wynonna can feel his hand slide across her back as he goes. She goes to follow him but notices Jace isn’t moving, still staring Nedley down, and she doesn’t like the way his fingers are fluttering around the grip of his gun. He shifts a little, removing the gun from the side of the woman’s head, but for a second he hesitates, and it’s as though she can see the wheels turning in his head.  
  
“Hey,” she growls, reaching back and grabbing his shoulder. It’s enough to break his focus on Nedley and then he’s glancing back at her. “Let’s go.” She looks to the other two hostages and tells them, “You two don’t move until the van starts moving. Just stand still and you’ll be fine.” Neither of them look back at her, clearly too afraid, and she has a feeling they won’t be moving until the van is practically out of sight.  
  
“Get in,” Jace grunts at her and she finally does so, throwing herself back into the van. Phil, Mickey, and Stix are all crouched down as far back as they can get and Wynonna joins them, and then Jace is getting in and pulling the last hostage in with him. He slams the door closed and pushes her towards the front of the van. “Come on, get us out of here.”  
  
She scrambles into the driver’s seat, shaking, and Jace’s gun is jammed into her side as soon as she’s sitting, crouched down behind her seat. A second later and the van is jerking forward, and then they’re peeling down the street, the antique shop and police behind them.  
  
Phil whoops as they race down the street, his arms quickly circling around Wynonna and yanking her to his chest. His mouth is on hers a moment later but she’s barely returning the kiss, not taking her eyes off of the gun Jace still has pressed to the woman’s side. Mickey and Stix are talking quickly and loudly, celebrating their victory already, and after a few minutes Jace finally seems to relax a little too. He keeps directing the woman, telling her when to turn and so on, but his posture loosens, and the gun leaves her side.  
  
About fifteen minutes later they’re stopping, pulling into an old abandoned lot. Five bikes are already parked waiting for them, and the adrenaline pumping through her veins finally begins to lessen when Wynonna sees them. They’re back where they started for this whole thing with a successful haul, and no one got hurt.  
  
As soon as the van is parked and ignition is off they’re all piling out of the van.  
  
“You two get the haul back, we’ll take care of the van,” Jace says to Phil and Mickey, jerking his head towards the bikes. They both nod; that was already the plan, so Mickey heads straight for his bike. Phil grabs Wynonna by the back of her neck and then plants another kiss to her lips.  
  
“See you soon, baby.” He flashes her what she knows is a smirk and winks. “We’ll celebrate the right way soon as you’re done here.”  
  
She returns the smirk and then slaps his ass as he turns away from her. “Don’t start without me. If you do, just get it on camera for me, yeah?” He throws his head back, laughing, and then tosses the sack of jewelry into one of the bags attached to his bike. He gives them a mock salute and then he and Mickey are both starting their bikes and racing off, speeding back into the street and heading back to the little bar at the edge of town the Banditos took over more than a year ago.  
  
“If you can keep your head outta his pants long enough, let’s go,” Jace calls out, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards the van. “We still got work to do.” Wynonna rolls her eyes but turns around without saying anything.  
  
They strip down the van, removing its plates, destroying the VIN number, obliterating anything that might make it identifiable. It’s not like they came across the van in the most legal of ways, but anything they can do to make it harder to track can only help them. While she and Jace work, Stix keeps watch on their last hostage, the two of them standing away from the van.  
  
It doesn’t take too long, and then they’re done, nothing left that could possibly point anyone their way. Wynonna takes a deep breath, letting it out as her lips curl up. Not a bad day’s work, all in all.  
  
“Alright, that’s it,” she says, stepping back away from the van and turning to look from Jace to Stix and their hostage. “We’re done. Let’s get out of here.”  
  
Jace nods, also moving away from the van. “Yeah, we’re about done. Just one thing left to do.”  
  
Before Wynonna can react the gun is in his hand again and pointing towards the other woman. His finger is on the trigger and Wynonna’s heart freezes in her chest as he squeezes it. She can feel the reverberations of its bang against her bones, and then watches as the other woman jerks, her eyes wide. They all look, and almost instantly red blooms across her abdomen. Wynonna’s already halfway to her when her knees buckle, and she just manages to catch her around the waist as she goes down. Her weight pulls the brunette down with her, both collapsing to the ground.  
  
“What the fucking hell?” she screams, eyes wild as she glares at Jace. Her hands press hard at the woman’s abdomen, and her stomach rolls as she feels the blood seeping through the gloves she’s still wearing. “Why did you do that?”  
  
He just shrugs, stuffing the gun into the waistband of his pants.  
  
“Slow the cops down. They’ll find the van and her, and be too busy to look for us.”  
  
“You didn’t have to fucking shoot her! No one was supposed to get hurt!”  
  
Jace scoffs, an ugly sneer visible even beneath his mask and Wynonna has never wanted to hurt someone more. “Since when do you give a shit about anyone but yourself? We got what we wanted, and now it’s done. She’ll distract the cops, and we get out scott free.” He looks over at Stix and then waves his hand, turning and beginning to walk towards the three bikes still parked nearby. “Now let’s get out of here. She’s just bleeding a little, she’ll probably be fine.”  
  
Stix doesn’t so much as give the bleeding woman or Wynonna a second glance, just follows Jace to the bikes. Two of the bikes roar to life and Jace looks back over his shoulder, sees them both still on the ground, and just shakes his head. The next moment they’re both leaving, the roar of the bikes quickly dying as they race down the street, putting distance between them and the stripped van and bleeding woman.  
  
Wynonna knows she should be getting the hell out of there too, but she can’t make herself leave the woman bleeding on the ground. Her stomach rolls when she looks back down; it’s hard to see against her black gloves, but she can feel the blood seeping through the thin material and can easily picture the red that is staining her hands. Bile rises up her throat but she swallows it down and just grits her teeth.  
  
“It’s alright, you’re gonna be alright,” she promises the woman, whose mouth is hanging open, tears sliding down the sides of her face to drip into the dirt.  
  
“I don’t, don’t want to die,” she mumbles frantically, and the terror Wynonna can hear in her voice rips something inside her open. She fights whatever it is down, forcing herself to try to think.  
  
“You’re not gonna die. You’re not. We just need to, to slow down the bleeding.” She looks around, desperately searching for anything she can press against the wound, but swears when she doesn’t see anything. Pulling her hands away for just a moment, she rips her mask off and quickly shucks off her jacket. A tiny voice at the back of her mind reminds her she shouldn’t be letting this woman see her face, but it’s the last thing she cares about right now. Besides, she doesn’t recognize the woman, so there’s at least a chance she won’t recognize Wynonna either.  
  
As soon as both jacket and mask are off her hands are grasping the hem of her shirt and yanking it over her head. It's a hot and humid day but instantly she feels goosebumps ripple over her bare skin, and she knows it has nothing to do with the temperature. She bunches the shirt up and presses it against the wound, adding pressure to it even as the woman winces.  
  
“Hey, what’s your name?” Wynonna asks, looking up to try to catch the woman’s eyes. She’s blinking constantly, and all Wynonna can think is she needs to try to distract her.  
  
“J-Joanne. Joanne Summers.”  
  
“Alright Jo-jo, just hang on, we’re gonna get you some help. You got a phone?”  
  
Wynonna wants to swear again when Joanne shakes her head. “They took it,” she says, nodding towards where the five bikes once stood.  
  
“Of fucking course they did,” Wynonna mutters. She growls, and then shakes her head. “Hold this.” She gestures to the shirt and Joanne doesn’t argue, taking over keeping the pressure on the wound as Wynonna’s hands pull away. She grabs for her jacket, wrenching the zipper to one of the pockets down and pulling out the burner phone there. The whole crew had one in case anything went wrong during the robbery; this was not how she ever imagined she’d end up using hers. She grits her teeth, wondering just what the hell she’s doing, and then punches in a few specific numbers. Wynonna closes her eyes as she holds it up, waiting for someone to pick up.  
  
“A woman’s been shot,” she spits out the second she hears a voice on the other end of the line. “She was hit in the abdomen, there’s a lot of blood. She needs help, so hurry the hell up.” She gives the address of the abandoned lot and then hangs up before the person on the other end can say anything else. Next thing she’s dropping the phone to the ground and slamming her heel down on it. She’s pretty sure they couldn’t use it to track her down anyway, but it doesn’t hurt to make sure.  
  
With the call placed, Wynonna doesn’t know what to do next. She knows she shouldn’t leave, should stay and make sure the woman gets help, but on the other hand she can’t stay. All it’ll take is one look around the lot for anyone who knows about the robbery to know she was part of it, and she’s sure Nedley or Matty will be coming along with the ambulance. If she wants to stay out of prison she needs to go, now, but she can’t make herself leave. Her hands are still covered in blood and she can see the same red seeping into her shirt, still pressed against Joanne’s wound. This is at least partly her fault, and the guilt that has plagued her for so much of her life has filled her gut, feeling like lead hornets buzzing inside her.  
  
It’s only been a few minutes since she crushed the phone when she suddenly hears the dim wail of sirens. Her heart jumps to her throat and her breathing gets faster. This is it, she has to make a decision now if she’s going to have any chance of getting away, and she glances back down at Joanne, breathing heavily on the ground. The other woman is already staring up at her, as though she’s waiting to see what Wynonna will choose, and the brunette swallows thickly.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, shaking her head. “Shit, I’m just…” She blinks, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes she manages to hold back, and then she’s reaching down and grabbing her jacket and yanking it back on. Without another word she’s running over to her bike, her heartbeat only increasing in speed the louder the sirens get. She slams her helmet over her head and starts the ignition, and within seconds she’s peeling out of the lot, speeding away from the approaching sirens as fast as she can.  
  
It takes longer to get back to the Banditos’ commandeered bar since she sticks with back roads and alleys as much as possible, but finally she’s pulling up outside of it. She doesn’t bother to kill the ignition, just leaves it running as she throws a leg over the bike. Anger seers in her veins, burning her from the inside out, but she welcomes it because for the moment it helps to tamper down the guilt she can still feel weighing in her gut. That anger only grows hotter as she stomps up the two steps and through the bar’s front door. Loud music and the chaos of countless voices speaking over each other hit her even before she can enter the bar, but all she can really hear is the anger pounding in her ears. Nobody really pays her any attention as she steps into the room other than to maybe give her a quick glance and she doesn’t focus any of them either. There’s only one person she’s looking for and she finds him in her first scan of the room. Jace is leaning up against the bar, a beer in his hand, grinning with Mickey and a couple of others who weren’t part of the robbery.  
  
“Hey babe,” she hears beside her and then feels a hand on her arm, but Wynonna shakes Phil off without so much as a glance. Instead she rips the helmet off of her head and stomps across the room.  
  
Jace notices her when she’s only a few paces away and flashes his grin to her. “Done babysitting the hostage bi-”  
  
Wynonna’s helmet connecting with his face cuts him off. She rears back and slams it across his face with all her strength and the momentum behind the movement forces his entire body to fall to the side. He catches himself on the bar, but there’s already blood seeping down his chin and a great gash open across his cheek. He spits and a couple of teeth tumble to the floor.  
  
The chatter in the room stops instantly, every person there now watching in shock. Wynonna drops the helmet and grabs the collar of his jacket, yanking him back to his feet and shoving him back against the bar.  
  
“You son of bitch,” she growls, her anger actually making her arms tremble. “You could have killed her! There was no fucking reason to shoot her!”  
  
“You, you fucking bitch,” he spits, and Wynonna can feel a spray of spit and blood hit her face. “I’ll fucking kill you!”  
  
“Just try it, asshole,” she dares him, her anger making her voice lower than usual. “I’m not some innocent woman too afraid to fight back.”  
  
“Got that fucking right,” he tells her as he grabs her wrists and short nails bite into her skin. “You’re not innocent at all. Don’t act like you’re better ‘n me. Least I didn’t know the person I shot. Better ‘n shooting my own daddy, don’t you think?”  
  
He sneers at her and all she wants is to smash her fist into his face over and over again until he can’t talk anymore. It scares her how much she wants to hurt him so instead she shoves him back and lets go of his jacket. She shifts her glare from him to Mickey, who steps back until he’s pressed against the bar. “I want my cut of the take. Now.”  
  
“We gotta sell the jewelry first,” he just says, shaking his head. “You’ll get your cut same time as the rest of us.”  
  
Her nostrils flare and for a second she wants to punch him too. She suddenly wants to thrash each and every one of them, wants to keep hitting faces until she can see the bones of her knuckles. Instead when her fist lashes out it makes contact with the bar, and the sudden spark of pain along her knuckles helps her to keep her head, though just barely. She holds Mickey’s gaze for another second, the man still shrinking back under her glare, and then quickly turns on her heel. Without another word she reaches down for her helmet and then she’s marching back across the room. Before she can reach the door Phil is in front of her and reaching out, but she just brushes past him.  
  
“Fuck off, Phil,” she growls, and then she’s by him and out of the bar. She’s on her bike again and racing away from the Banditos without a single look back.  
  
The farther away from the bar she gets the faster her heart starts to beat. Her gloves are still sticky from the drying blood and her mind is racing. She left Joanne - a woman she doesn’t know, never spoke to before today, and yet suddenly feels responsible for - alone, possibly bleeding to death in the dirt. By now there’s a good chance the paramedics will have gotten her to the hospital so maybe she’ll live, but even if she does it won’t change what happened. Nedley will be looking for the crew that hit the antique shop, and there aren’t many gangs in Purgatory that would try to pull off a job like that. He’ll be looking into the Banditos for sure, and there are only about half a dozen women associated with the gang; it won’t be long until he comes after her. With or without evidence, he’ll bring her into the station and grill her, might even use any of the three hostages to I.D. her. If she wants to avoid spending at least the next five years in prison, she needs to act now. It’s fight or flight time, and despite her natural response being fight, she knows there’s only one way out of all of this.  
  
She finally pulls up outside of Shorty’s and then she’s moving quickly, shutting off her bike and then rushing inside. There are only a handful of patrons inside, all of which give her a look as she strides hurriedly across the room. Shorty calls out a greeting when she passes the bar but she doesn’t return it, heading straight for the stairs at the other side of the room and rushing up them. Very few residents of Purgatory want to rent their apartments to the town crazy chick who killed her father, but Shorty isn’t one of them. She’s been renting the apartment above the bar ever since she aged out of the foster system, and now she thrusts the door to the room open, slamming it shut behind her.  
  
The space is a mess; clothes are strewn across the floor, hanging off of the one chair she has by the little table pushed up against the wall. Liquor bottles - some empty, others with various levels of liquid in them - line the single counter in the corner of the room that stands as the kitchen, and she knows there’s at least one more hidden in the messy bed sheets somewhere. She ignores it all, just begins digging around for the backpack she knows she still has somewhere. She grabs a shirt to toss it out of her way and notices the gloves she’s still wearing and her stomach rolls again. Quickly she rips the gloves off of her hands and rushes over to the sink. She turns on the faucet and then shoves her hands under the steaming stream of water, hissing at the heat but not doing anything about it. She scrubs at her skin, using the last dregs of her soap to wash the blood off.  
  
Once her hands are bright red from the heat of the water and not the blood she finally pulls them away, using her elbow to turn off the faucet. Wynonna just grabs one of the shirts hanging off the chair to dry them, and then she’s back to digging around for her backpack. She finally finds it half hidden under her bed and then she’s looking around the room and grabbing a few shirts, pants, pairs of underwear, and bras and shoving them all in. A handful of socks follow and she honestly doesn’t know if there’s a single matching pair in it but she doesn’t care. Toothbrush, tooth paste, deodorant, and any other essentials she can think of get crammed in around the clothing, and then she’s digging out a plastic bag from the back of her underwear drawer that she almost never remembers to put her underwear in. In the bag is a few grand in cash, what she still has from Pussy Willows and the jobs she helped to pull off earlier in the summer. It isn’t much, but it should be enough to get her a one-way ticket to somewhere a few thousand miles away from Purgatory.  
  
The last thing she remembers is her passport, which she stuffs into her jacket pocket, zipping it up after. Realizing she still isn’t wearing a shirt, she growls and then shucks off the jacket, grabs a random black shirt from the floor, and then pulls it over her head. Her jacket is back on less than a minute later, and she slings the backpack over one shoulder. She gives the room one final glance, trying to think if she forgot anything, and then grabs a piece of paper and a pen from the table. She scribbles out a quick note for Shorty and catches it in the door as she closes it behind her. For a second she stares at the closed door, her nerves catching in her throat, but then she shakes her head and her expression sets. She’s been wanting to get out of Purgatory for years, and now leaving is her only choice.  
  
Funny how fate seems to work out like that.  
  
Without looking back she heads back down the stairs and then she’s across the room and back outside, not so much as sparing a glance at anyone else. She’s pretty sure she can feel Shorty’s eyes following her but she ignores it; there’s only one person she owes any kind of explanation to, and as soon as it’s given Purgatory and everyone in it will be behind her.  
  
There’s only one thing on her mind now and it’s all she focuses on as her bike roars down the street. It takes about ten minutes to get from Shorty’s to her aunt and uncle’s, but then she’s pulling into the McCready ranch and her heart is in her throat again. She doesn’t give herself time to think, just shucks off her helmet and backpack, leaving both with the motorcycle, and then she’s making her way up the porch and to the front door.  
  
A door which opens just before she reaches it. Gus stands in the doorway, obvious suspicion in her eyes as she stares at her eldest niece, her arms crossed over her chest.  
  
“Wynonna,” she just says. “What’re you doing here?” Her eyes flick over her shoulder to the bike and then back. “What’s goin’ on?”  
  
“I need to see Waverly,” is all Wynonna tells her. She moves to pass her aunt but then Gus’s arm is out, blocking her way. She stands rigidly, her brow knit in anger, and she shakes her head.  
  
“That’s not gonna happen until you talk to me and tell me what’s going on, Wy.”  
  
Wynonna grits her teeth. There’s still enough adrenaline and anger pumping through her that for just a split second her fist nearly flies forward, but she manages to hold it back. Instead she just looks into the house behind Gus and decides if she can’t go to her sister she’ll have her sister come to her.  
  
“Waverly!” she shouts, loud enough that her aunt jumps. “Waverly! Get out here! Now!”  
  
“Wynonna!” Gus growls, her arms dropping as she steps forward. She reaches out and grabs her niece’s arm but Wynonna shakes her off with a glare.  
  
“Waverly! Get your ass out here!”  
  
It takes a minute, but suddenly she can see Waverly rushing towards the door, her eyes wide. “Wynonna! Gus.” She looks between them, clearly noticing the tension. “What’s going on?”  
  
“I need to talk to you,” Wynonna replies and then gives her aunt another glare. “I need to talk to my _sister_.”  
  
For a moment Gus doesn’t move, standing between the two sisters. She studies Wynonna, eyes flicking across her face to try to read whatever is going on behind her eldest niece’s scowl, and then finally she steps to the side. Her eyes remain glued to Wynonna’s as she tells them, “You can talk to her, but I’m not going anywhere.”  
  
“Whatever,” Wynonna grumbles as Waverly steps around her aunt, still looking between the two of them. She steps further out onto the porch and her little sister follows and suddenly Wynonna doesn’t know what to say. She runs one hand through her hair nervously, clenching her jaw again. This moment was never going to be easy, and in every daydream she’s had over the past few years of leaving Purgatory, this conversation is something she’s been careful not to think about. Now she’s wishing she had so she actually knew what to say.  
  
“Wynonna, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” There’s worry in Waverly’s big eyes and furrowed brow, and it just about breaks Wynonna’s heart, but she steels herself to say what she came here to say.  
  
“I’m leaving, Waverly.” The words come out of her mouth without hesitation or padding. Might as well just get it over with, she figures. “Getting the hell out of this town.”  
  
Her sister’s mouth drops open in surprise and then closes again. “Oh, um, okay. When will you be back?”  
  
The back of Wynonna’s throat has begun to burn, but she very purposefully ignores it. “I’m not, Waverly. I’m leaving. For good.”  
  
There’s surprise immediately followed by resignation that flashes across Waverly’s face, and Wynonna knows that on some level her sister has been expecting this for a while. That doesn’t keep the tears from gathering in Waverly’s eyes, and a stab of guilt cuts through Wynonna’s gut when she sees one roll down her sister’s cheek.  
  
“But… Purgatory is our home.”  
  
“No, Purgatory is your home, Waverly!” She doesn’t mean to shout it, but the events of the day, of the past six years, build until they’re crashing through her chest and she’s throwing up her hands. “It’s my hell! Ever since Willa and Daddy-” Wynonna cuts herself off, closing her eyes as her hands curl into fists. When they open again she looks her sister directly in the eye. “I just need to get out of here, Waverly. I have to.”  
  
Another tear slips down Waverly’s cheek but Wynonna doesn’t reach out to brush it away. She knows she’s failed her sister too many times, broken her heart more times than can be forgiven. But where Wynonna is the fuck-up, the last person who deserves any kind of forgiveness, Waverly is the saint, always ready to forgive even when it isn’t deserved. She stares up at Wynonna for another moment and then she’s stepping forward and her arms are wrapping around her big sister’s waist and Wynonna has to actively fight to hold back her own tears.  
  
“Promise you’ll keep in touch,” she hears her little sister whisper. Waverly looks up without letting go and the lump catches in Wynonna’s throat. “Just promise me that.”  
  
Wynonna has to swallow a few times but she nods. “I promise, Waves.” Waverly studies her for just a moment more and then returns the nod before pressing her face back to Wynonna’s torso. Wynonna hesitates and then her arms are wrapping around her little sister too and the two sisters just cling to each other.  
  
Finally they let go, and after another long look Wynonna shakes her head, jaw clenching, and then she’s striding back down the porch towards her bike. Her bag is strapped against her back and her helmet is on again before she can’t help herself and takes one last look over her shoulder. Waverly is pressed against Gus’s side with their aunt’s arm around her shoulders but she’s watching Wynonna. There are more tears running down her face and Wynonna feels a single tear of her own slip from the corner of her eye. She doesn’t bother to reach up under her helmet to wipe it away; no one can see it anyway. Before another can fall she tears her gaze from her sister and turns all her attention back to her bike. Her shoulders square and then she’s back on it, the engine roaring, and she doesn’t look back as she pulls out of the driveway. Looking back might stop her, and there’s nothing that’s going to stop Wynonna Earp now.  
  
She has one more stop she has to make, and then she’s getting the hell out of Purgatory. For good.


	11. Chapter 11

Greece is different from Purgatory in every way possible. Wynonna isn’t particularly different - she still drinks too much, sleeps with strange men without giving any kind of fucks, and turns to less than legal means to pay her rent when she needs to - but Greece, that takes a little getting used to.  
  
To start, there’s the size. Growing up in Purgatory with a population of only a few thousand people in no way could have prepared her for Athens with its hundreds of thousands of people. In Purgatory there was space, too much of it sometimes, while in the city there is none. Buildings are packed together, more even just on one street than she would ever want to take the time to count. Purgatory was dust and dirt roads; Athens is packed cobbled streets and the scent of the ocean. It’s museums and art galleries, history encompassed in architecture and statues. It’s a world that never sleeps, the city’s lights so bright even at the darkest time of night that Wynonna can barely see any stars whenever she bothers to look up. Seldom does she think to try; a bustling nightlife means opportunities galore for fun and drinks, so most nights she finds herself in a strange bar, her hips swinging to pounding music and at least one drink in her hand. More often than not there are hands on her hips, a body pressed against her own, and she loves every second of it.  
  
More important than the size or the nightlife, than the ocean or population: in Athens she’s _free_. In the city she is just another face in the crowd, just a stranger among thousands, and she revels in it. For the first time in years people aren’t always watching her. Nobody checks in to see if she’s taken her meds, there aren’t whispers she can still hear as soon as she leaves a room. Not a single person around her knows her history, nobody can judge her for her past because none of them know anything about it, and despite the hundreds of thousands of people around her for the first time in years it feels like she can finally _breathe_.  
  
She misses Waverly; the ache of it is really the only thing that ever makes her think of Purgatory. For the first few months in the new city everything makes her think of her sister, imagining what Waverly would think about it all, but the longer she’s there - the more normal the city becomes to her - the less those thoughts cross her mind. It’s not that she ever forgets about her sister, not ever, but missing her becomes something to remember, a hollow ache inside her chest that loses its edge the longer they’re apart. She remembers her promise, does her damnedest to keep it, but with nine thousand miles between them it becomes harder and harder to remember to check in.  
  
Months turn into years, and too slowly to really notice the distance between them solidifies into something new. Their lives continue, and for the first time they are truly living apart. 

***

September 28th, 2009

“...I’m telling you Waves, you would love it here. The smell of the ocean, the buzz of the people… There are five bars within drunk-walking distance of my apartment. Five! Mama’s gonna have her drink on all the time.”  
  
“That sounds amazing Wynonna! Though I’m not sure you really need five bars so close…”  
  
“I _always_ need bars close by.”  
  
“Have you been to any of the museums yet? I’ve been reading a lot about the National Archaeological Museum and it sounds absolutely amazeballs! Apparently they have access to over eleven _thousand_ exhibits!”  
  
“Uh yeah, haven’t made it there yet. Not really on my must-see list, honestly.”  
  
“Well then what about the Benaki Museum? I read it’s one of the most important museums for the art, history, and culture of Greece!!”  
  
“...Mm, nope. Got any others for me?”  
  
“Um, there’s the Hellenic Motor Museum.”  
  
“A motor museum? The hell is that supposed to be?”  
  
“It’s a museum with dozens and dozens of old cars, some even from the early nineteen-hundreds.”  
  
“Huh. That one sounds like it could be kinda cool, might check that one out. Bet it would be fun to take one or two of those babies for a drive, see what they can still do.”  
  
“It’s a museum, Wynonna. That usually means no touching any of the exhibits.”  
  
“Hm. So not fun, then. Probs will be skipping the museum trips, baby girl. I already did the school thing, don’t need to be adding to my edumication.”  
  
“Alright. So what are you doing?”  
  
“Baby girl, I told you: five bars. Walking distance. What else would I be doing?”

***

December 25th, 2009

“Merry Christmas, Wynonna!”  
  
“Merry Christmas, Waves. You got the menstrangel on the tree, yeah?”  
  
“Of course! It isn’t Christmas without the menstrangel, silly. What about you, do you have a tree in your apartment?”  
  
“Nah. Didn’t bother with it.”  
  
“Wynonna it’s Christmas. You need a tree!”  
  
“I’d just have to get rid of it in a couple of days, Waverly. It’s not worth it.”  
  
“But what are you going to put your gifts under?”  
  
“It’s not like I’ve got a ton of them, baby girl.”  
  
“You got mine though, right? The shipping number said it had been delivered a couple days ago, but maybe they got it wrong and it’s lost somewhere-”  
  
“Woah woah, easy Waverly. Yeah, I got your gift, don’t worry.”  
  
“Oh good! But where are you gonna put it? It’s supposed to be under a tree.”  
  
“Uh, I was just gonna open it. It doesn’t need to go under anything.”  
  
“Wynonna.”  
  
“...I have a plant in a pot I could put it under for a few minutes before I open it. The plant’s a little dead, but would that work for you?”  
  
“It’ll do. Next year you really should get a tree, though.”

***

June 22nd, 2010

“I don’t know, I’m just bored I guess. I miss school. I had some really awesome classes this year. Mr. Warren told me if I do as well in History next year there’s a really good chance I could audit a college class or two my senior year, maybe even my junior year!”  
  
“...It’s offish: You are the nerdiest nerd to ever nerd, Waverly. You sure you’re not adopted or something?”  
  
“Ha ha Wynonna, very funny.”

***

March 10th, 2011

…  
  
….  
  
…..  
  
“Mm. Hello?”  
  
“Wynonna I did it! I did it I did it!”  
  
“...Waverly?”  
  
“Oh poop, did I wake you up? I’m sorry! I forgot about the time difference thing.”  
  
“Mm. ‘S alright. What did you do?”  
  
“I made the cheer squad!”  
  
“You’re a cheerleader now? Huh. I woulda hated you in high school.”  
  
“Oh come on Wynonna. This is really exciting!”  
  
“Mm. Exciting. Excited for you. Woohoo.”  
  
“You’re falling back asleep aren’t you?”  
  
“Uh uh.”  
  
“Go back to sleep, Wynonna. We can talk later.”  
  
“Kay. Talk later, baby girl.”  
  
“Sweet dreams, Nonna.”  
  
As soon as Wynonna ends the call and drops her phone back to the table by her bed, an arm snakes around her waist and then there’s a body pressing against her back.  
  
“Who was that, baby?”  
  
The guy she brought home from the bar - she can’t remember if she’s supposed to know his name or not - moves her hair so he can press a kiss to the back of her neck. The corners of her mouth twitch and she presses back against him, shifting to give him better access to her neck which he happily takes advantage of.  
  
“Just my sister. Don’t worry about it.”  
  
“So you have a sister, huh? What’s she like? Younger or older than you?”  
  
She shakes her head and then turns, her hand planting itself to his chest and pushing him back into the mattress. “Do you really want to talk about my sister right now? Or would you rather…” Her hand trails down his chest to his waist and she can easily tell what his choice is going to be. His arms wrap around her waist and pull her on top of him.  
  
“Oh, I’d rather.” She lets out a husky chuckle and then closes the distance between them, bringing their mouths together. She can’t mind being woken up too much when this is what it results in.  
  
She’ll have to remember to thank Waverly, next time she talks to her. 

***

**03/19/2011  
12:13 PM Wynonna: Hey Waves. Sry, forgot 2 call u back. **

****

****

**03/19/2011  
12:14 PM Wynonna: Congrats on the cheering thing. Still hate cheerleaders tho.**

**03/19/2011  
12:15 PM Wynonna: Not u tho. Obvi.**

Waverly doesn’t manage to pull herself out of her studying until the third text comes in, not even noticing the first two. It takes her a moment to re-situate herself in the present, her thoughts still flying from what she’s been reading about for the past three hours, but when she reads through her sister’s texts she smiles. She types out a quick reply that she doesn’t hate Wynonna either and that everyone on the squad is so nice, she wouldn’t hate any of these cheerleaders, and then sends it. The phone is then tossed back beside her on the bed and she picks the newspapers she was going through back up again to continue her studies.  
  
They’re old and she has to be extremely careful as she handles them but the information inside is worth the care she has to take. There’s a notebook in her lap with line after line of her scribbled notes, and she holds a pen between two fingers, tapping it incessantly against her thigh as she reads.  
  
_Father Robert Malik was brought to justice today by hanging. The hellfire revivalist minister was found guilty of murdering his wife, as well as four known prostitutes and Miss Jeannie May, who was allegedly having an affair with the Father. Before his death, the Father stated, “Whores whore and sinners sin, and all shall repent!”  
  
This hanging is yet another in a long line of Sheriff Wyatt Earp’s quest to purge the evils of men from this world, along with his friend Henry “Doc” Holliday…_  
  
“Glad you got him, Great-Great Grandpappy.” Waverly shakes her head as she writes Father Malik’s name in her notebook with a description of his crime. “He does not sound like a very nice person. Like, at all.”  
  
With the Father’s name added to the list, that makes a total of fifteen of the seventy-seven revenants identified and the corners of Waverly’s mouth curl up. Slowly but surely her research is coming together, and every time she finds another name to add to the list or another article or newspaper to add to her pile it feels like she’s getting closer. To what she isn’t really sure of yet, all she knows is that the research is important if she’s going to break the Earp curse. Thinking about the curse she bites her bottom lip and gives a guilty glance over to her phone, feeling as if Wynonna can somehow see through her texts to see what she’s doing. Of course she can’t though, it’s silly to even think that, so Waverly just shakes her head and turns her focus back to her research.  
  
She promised Wynonna she would never speak of the curse or the revenants again and it’s a promise she’s been very careful to keep, even when she has had to bite down on her tongue to keep it. Despite everything she’s heard about her sister, every snide comment made behind her back or look of pity she’s received she’s kept her thoughts to herself, but no matter how much she tried to ignore it all Waverly has never been able to forget any of it. She still remembers every one of Daddy’s stories, has grown up whispering them to herself at night to make sure she doesn’t forget. Over the past year or so she’s even decided to expand on those stories, to learn the ones even Daddy didn’t know, and so she started scouring for information. She’s combed through the Purgatory library and read every book they have on her great great grandpappy, as well as made her way through every archived newspaper from when Wyatt was hunting down outlaws all the way up until when her daddy was shot eight and a half years ago. Waverly has even started looking into libraries outside of town, and so far has managed to have two books transferred to the Purgatory library for her. She is going to scour the entire country if she has to, is going to obtain every scrap of information she possibly can, and then she is going to use it to break the curse.  
  
Wynonna made her promise not to talk about their family history ever again and she hasn’t, but she certainly isn’t going to ignore it. Sure Daddy always said it had to be the Earp heir to break the curse, but so far nothing in her research has given her any reason to think she can’t do it, heir or not. The real Earp heir is gone and Wynonna turned her back on her inherited destiny, so Waverly figures it’s just up to her to break it. If she’s going to do that though then she’s going to need to know absolutely everything about the seventy-seven revenants she’ll need to put back in the ground. There’s also the matter of finding Peacemaker since the police never found it after it killed Daddy, but she’s got flags out online waiting to catch anyone trying to sell a Colt Buntline Special. Eventually she’ll find it, and when she does she’ll use it to send all the revenants right back to hell.  
  
Waverly is combing through the next newspaper and taking down a few more quick notes when her phone buzzes beside her, the screen lighting up. Assuming it’s Wynonna again she grabs it and flips it open, but instead of her sister’s name written across the screen she sees one of her best friend’s. 

**03/19/2011  
1:03 PM Steph: Girl, party 2nite @ Sonja’s. U in?**

After reading the quick message, Waverly glances back at the pile of papers in front of her, uncertain. Her plan was to spend the whole weekend scouring through them as much as possible, but maybe she could take a break for just one evening? She’s still debating it when another text comes through. 

**03/19/2011  
1:05 PM Steph: Just confirmed, Champ’s gonna be there. ;) **

Waverly’s eyes widen at that and her heart begins to beat just a hair faster. She’s been crushing on Champ - a senior, and totally cute - for the last few months and she’s pretty sure he’s finally begun to get the hint and might even like her back. This might just be her opportunity to find out if she’s right. With just one final glance at the papers spread out on her bed she quickly types back the affirmative, and the second the text has sent she can feel the butterflies begin to stir in her stomach. Before she can lose her nerve she tosses her phone back on the bed and gets up, quickly making her way out of her room to check in with Gus and Curtis and make sure she can go.  
  
She’s got another ten and a half years before she’ll be twenty-seven and can start hunting down the revenants anyway, what’s one night of fun - hopefully with one very cute boy!

***

January 1st, 2012

The first time her phone buzzes it doesn’t wake Wynonna up. She’s in the kind of deep sleep that happens after a night of heavy drinking so it shouldn’t bother her, but then it continues to buzz and slowly that buzzing makes its way through to her subconscious and she can feel that heavy sleep peel away. She fights against it, her head already starting to pound as soon as sleep begins to wear off and when she rolls over her stomach continues even when she stops and for just a second she thinks she might be sick. The severity of the feeling passes though it remains settled in the bottom of her stomach and finally one eye cracks open. Light is trying to flood the room but the dark curtain pulled across the window is holding it back and she’s never been so thankful for a piece of fabric in her life.  
  
Her phone buzzes again and she groans. One hand peels away from her pillow and thrashes out, smacking the phone before grabbing it. The light from the screen as she pulls it closer makes her shrink back and want to throw it to the other side of the room but she just squints until she can get used to the brightness.  
  
There are ten unread messages, the cause for the near constant buzzing, and despite her headache and general crappiness, going through them makes one corner of her mouth turn up.

**01/01/2012  
9:02 AM Waverly: Hap**

****

****

**01/01/2012  
9:02 AM Waverly: py**

**01/01/2012  
9:03 AM Waverly: Happy Nev**

**01/01/2012  
9:04 AM Waverly: Hapqy**

**01/01/2012  
9:06 AM Waverly: Stu pid phonf**

**01/01/2012  
9:07 AM Waverly: H A P P Y**

**01/01/2012  
9:08 AM Waverly: N E W**

**01/01/2012  
9:08 AM Waverly: Y E A R**

**01/01/2012  
9:09 AM Waverly: W Y N N O N A**

**01/01/2012  
9:10 AM Waverly: !!!**

Shaking her head, Wynonna finally sits up, groaning as she does. The phone still in her hand, she looks over her shoulder for a moment to find the guy she brought home after partying in the new year is still crashed, his head practically buried in her extra pillow. She takes a second to appreciate the way the covers are only covering him from about the waist down and leaving a very nicely chiseled bare back on full view, and then pulls herself up. Her head gives an extra little throb as she finally stands upright and her stomach still feels like it might be ready to expel everything she put in it the night before - namely the seven shots of whiskey followed by more than just a couple of glasses of bourbon - but after a moment it all settles. She feels even better after a trip to the bathroom, and then she’s making her way into her tiny kitchen and starting a pot of coffee.  
  
As the coffee brews, she turns her attention back to her phone, reads through the messages again, and then taps on her sister’s name. As the line rings she sticks the phone between her ear and shoulder and stretches her arms up, yawning.  
  
It takes a while, but finally the ringing stops and suddenly there’s noise on the other end of the line, enough to make Wynonna wince and her head pound again.  
  
“Wynonna!” she hears her sister shout, her name nearly lost in the shouting and music coming from wherever her sister is.  
  
“Yo Waves. Just thought I’d call and see just how drunk you are.” Wynonna grins to herself even as her eyes flick back to the coffee pot. Her hangover from her own night of drinking tugs at her temples, and the caffeine can’t get in her veins fast enough as far as she’s concerned.  
  
“... not that… -Nonna,” she hears but the rest is drowned out by the music.  
  
“Didn’t get that, Wave. Gonna have to say it again.”  
  
“-d on.” There’s more noise but after a moment the music has lessened and there’s less shouting, and when Waverly speaks again her voice is clear through the line. “There, is that better?”  
  
“Loads. So how drunk are you exactly?”  
  
“I’m not _that_ drunk, Wynonna!”  
  
“Yeah well you sure seemed to have some problems getting that text out.”  
  
“The buttons are too small! They’re, they’re just really small and I have to press them so much and my thumb’s just really big I guess and the letters didn’t want to do the thing!”  
  
Wynonna smirks, wishing she could see her sister’s face. She can picture it, imagines Waverly’s eyes as big as always and her brow up, or maybe furrowed into a glare she’s likely directing at the phone. She leans more heavily against the counter behind her, crossing her arms over her front while her shoulder still holds her own phone in place.  
  
“What thing, exactly? Not exactly detailed there, baby girl.”  
  
“The thing!” Waverly emphasizes and Wynonna can imagine her waving one hand around as she tries to get the right words out. “You know, the thing, when things don’t do what they’re supposed to. The word, um, the thing… cooperate!” The word is practically yelled and Wynonna winces. “The letters didn’t cooperate!”  
  
“Huh. And I thought you were supposed to be the smart one in the family,” Wynonna teases. She turns to open a cupboard and grabs one of her two coffee cups, some of the very few dishes she owns, and then moves back over to the coffee pot. “Can’t even figure out the word ‘cooperate,’ not sure how that’s gonna reflect on all those college applications you gotta fill out.”  
  
“I know what ‘cooperate’ means I just couldn’t think of the word. And I’ve already sent in all of my college applications. So there.”  
  
Wynonna hears what sounds an awful lot like Waverly blowing a raspberry at her and she doesn’t try to hold in a short, clipped bark of laughter. She pours out a cup of coffee as she shakes her head, and then grabs the phone with one hand, finally giving her shoulder a rest. “Nice, Wave. Thought you were supposed to be the mature one too.”  
  
“Boo, sometimes being mature’s no fun.”  
  
“Don’t have to tell me that, that’s why I never am.” Wynonna blows on her coffee, forcing herself to wait before she drinks it so she doesn’t burn her tongue. It’s a near thing though, so to try to distract herself she asks, “But seriously, how you doing? How much’ve you had tonight?”  
  
“Probably not as much as you had,” Waverly answers and Wynonna shrugs, not denying it. They both know about the elder sister’s alcohol dependency. “But um, some. Maybe like… four shots, and a drink or two? I don’t know, I might be missing a shot or two in there.”  
  
Wynonna raises her brow, impressed. For someone as small as Waverly, that would equate to a pretty nice buzz. One that is likely to come back and kick her little sister in the ass, but who is she to judge? “No doubt about it, you definitely are an Earp.” She debates for a half a second whether her coffee has cooled off enough and then shrugs and takes a sip. It definitely hasn’t cooled enough and the black coffee burns her tongue and throat, but despite her wince she can’t regret it as her headache seems to instantly lessen. “You got Nedley Junior there to hold back your hair when you’re chucking it all back up later?”  
  
“Yeah, Chrissy’s here. I don’t think I’m gonna puke though. I feel fine, the room’s just a little spin-spin-spinny.”  
  
“Oh the confidence of the drunk,” Wynonna jokes, grinning again. “Felt that before. Just keep Junior nearby in case you need her.”  
  
“Mmm,” Waverly agrees. “Guess I would rather she see my puke if it happens than Champ.”  
  
At the name of her sister’s boyfriend, Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Oh yeah, how is Chump anyway? He with you?”  
  
“ _Champ_ ,” Waverly reiterates and the corners of Wynonna’s mouth curl up. “And yeah, he’s here. I think he’s playing a game of beer pong right now. He’s won the last three games.”  
  
There’s pride in her voice as though that’s some great accomplishment and Wynonna stares into her coffee, unimpressed. She doesn’t really know Waverly’s boyfriend, can only kind of remember him from the few times she met him while she was still in Purgatory, but she has every certainty he isn’t good enough for her sister. Then again, as far as she’s concerned no one is.  
  
“Huh. Sounds like you’ve got a real winner there.” She takes another sip of her coffee because it’s in her hand and she just physically can’t ignore it and grits her teeth as the burn on her tongue flashes white-hot. Apparently she’s a glutton for punishment, but hey, what else is new?  
  
“He is.” Wynonna can hear the dreamy sigh her sister lets out with it and rolls her eyes, aware that Waverly either didn’t hear or completely ignored her own monotone tone. When she speaks again though the dreamy sigh is gone, and her sister appears to fully be back in the conversation again. “What about you? Did you meet anyone to hold your hair back last night? Hmm?”  
  
Waverly’s voice gets higher as she finishes, and Wynonna scoffs, knowing exactly what she’s really asking. She doesn’t give her sister the answer she’s looking for, just grins and tells her, “Please, like I ever need anyone to hold my hair back. I learned how to keep my hair clean after a night of binging years ago.”  
  
“Wynonna,” Waverly says, and she can hear the shift in the younger Earp’s voice. “Come on, you know what I mean. Meet any fun guys lately? Or made any friends, even?”  
  
“I meet all kinds of fun guys, Wave. And who needs friends?”  
  
The other end of the line is quiet for a second other than the background party noises Wynonna can still hear, and she raises an eyebrow as she takes another sip of her coffee. Finally she hears Waverly murmur, “Everybody needs friends, Wynonna. No one wants to be lonely. Not even you.”  
  
Waverly really must be buzzed if she’s getting all serious and trying to talk about something Wynonna never talks about, and the older sister shifts slightly where she stands, suddenly uncomfortable.  
  
“Who says I’m lonely?” she jokes, trying to lighten the mood that has suddenly taken this little dip. “Alone doesn’t mean lonely, baby girl.”  
  
“Still. I wish you had someone with you. I hate thinking about you, all alone all the time. You deserve to be happy, Wynonna.”  
  
This was so not the conversation she was expecting when she called her sister, but Wynonna just takes a silent breath, looking up at the ceiling. She considers completely side-stepping this, knows it wouldn’t be difficult to just start on a new topic since it’s what she always does when someone tries to have a serious conversation with her, but she doesn’t do it. She’s quiet for just a second and then tells her sister with her signature smirk, “Hey, I’m not alone, okay baby girl? I got you in my corner; that’s all I’ll ever need. So seriously, don’t worry about me.”  
  
“Okay,” Waverly finally replies. “If you say so. I am always in your corner, that’s true.” Her tone shifts, suddenly lighter. “And someday there’ll be others there too. I know it. It’s only a matter of time before people see how amazing you are and it’s not just me!”  
  
Wynonna wrinkles her nose, but has to fight down a smile.  
  
“Don’t go getting all mushy on me, Waverly, that’s gross. Save it for Chomp.”  
  
“I think you’d like him,” her sister tells her, apparently onto this new subject in true drunk fashion. “He’s strong and competitive and so hot. He’s a pretty great kisser too.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m sure he’s great. Bet he’s different from the rest of the Purgatory hicks.”  
  
“He is! He’s just…” Waverly sighs heavily on the other end of the line and Wynonna rolls her eyes at it but doesn’t say anything. She highly doubts Champ is any different from any of the other assholes in Purgatory, but she’ll let her sister have her fun.  
  
She’s taking another sip of her coffee and waiting for her sister to elaborate when she hears muffled voices on the other end of the line. She can’t make out anything either of them are saying but then Waverly is responding, her words a little muffled, and Wynonna just drinks her coffee as she waits for her sister to return her focus to the phone. When she does, she’s already expecting it when Waverly tells her, “Sorry sis, Steph and Chrissy are trying to get me back inside. Guess there’s a shot waiting for me.”  
  
“Don’t drink anything you don’t see poured,” is Wynonna’s automatic response. She may not be the most responsible person with her own well-being, but Waverly’s is far more important to her. “People suck.”  
  
“Don’t worry Nonna, I know all that, and people don’t suck as much as you think they do. I’ll talk to you later. Happy New Year!”  
  
“Happy New Year, baby girl,” Wynonna replies, and then hangs up at the same time her sister does. She stands there in the kitchen for another long moment with her coffee and then tosses her phone down on the counter. With her mug still in hand she strolls back into her room to find the guy she brought home the night before still passed out. With a roll of her eyes she bends down and grabs a shoe from her floor and then chucks it lightly at him, startling him awake. He looks around the room groggily, and when he glances at her she nods towards the kitchen. “Come on, time to get up. You can get a cup of coffee but then it’s time to skipperoo on outta here.” She doesn’t wait for a response, just turns to make her way back into the kitchen, and can hear him groaning as he pulls himself out of bed.  
  
Whether her sister likes it or not, Wynonna Earp is a lone wolf, doesn’t bother with relationships or romances. A night of hot sex she’ll take, but she doesn’t do the morning after charade. As far as she’s concerned, life is going just fine all on her own. 

***

**05/25/2013  
11:03 PM Waverly: Won prom queen tonight. :D**

**05/25/2013  
11:53 PM Wynonna: God. Prom queen head cheerleader AND valeDICtorian? It’s a good thing youre my sister or I woulda been obligated to hate you.**

***

June 8th, 2013

Waverly’s leg bounces as she stares at the television screen and tries very purposefully to ignore the clock hanging on the wall behind her. Champ’s guy in the game is shooting wildly, taking down all the enemies that get anywhere near him, and Champ himself is hollering at the screen and whooping with every enemy that falls. He never looks over at her, too focused on the game, but she’s smiling, so forcefully that her cheeks have begun to hurt.  
  
He started the game late last night and has been on a winning streak since that first level, now on level sixty-seven and still on the same guy. Waverly doesn’t know much about video games but she knows that’s impressive, so whenever Champ actually does look over at her she just makes sure to smile and cheer for him. It’s an amazing feat, she’s sure, and one that’s totally worth missing her graduation for.  
  
Which is exactly what’s happening, since it started a half hour ago and she’s here, sitting on her boyfriend’s bed and watching as another enemy gets shot in the head and goes down. Champ hollers at the TV, cheering on his figure, and Waverly echoes the cheers and hopes they sound genuine.  
  
Just as Champ gets to level sixty-eight, Waverly’s cell phone buzzes on the bed beside her and she visibly winces. It’s been buzzing off and on for the past hour and a half, first her friends trying to figure out where she is and then her aunt and uncle, and every time it buzzes there’s a ball of guilt in her gut that just gets a little denser. She responded to Chrissy and her aunt, told them both not to worry about her, but now it’s buzzing again and she’s sure it’s one of them wanting more details of why she isn’t at her high school graduation. The guilt eats away a little more as Waverly ignores the buzzing, knowing neither her aunt nor best friend would love any answer she could give them. Eventually the phone will go silent again and she’ll be able to give her boyfriend all of her focus again.  
  
Except the buzzing doesn’t stop. She figured whoever was calling would give up when the phone went to voicemail but after what can’t even have been a minute it starts up again and she frowns. It completes another full set of buzzing, goes silent again, and then once again the buzzing just starts right back up. It’s clear whoever is calling her, whether it’s Chrissy or Gus, isn’t going to stop until she answers so she decides to just bite the bullet and grabs her phone, turning it over and finally taking a look at the screen.  
  
Her eyes widen when she sees who it is and immediately answers it.  
  
“Wynonna, what-”  
  
Her sister’s voice cuts her off, and it is seething.  
  
“Where the _fuck_ are you, Waverly? This is your goddamn graduation, you’re the goddamn valedictorian, and you’re not here? You’re supposed to be giving some shitty speech and instead I’m supposed to be listening to this jackass second-placer do it instead? Where the hell are you?”  
  
Waverly blinks a few times, utterly at a loss for words as she tries to understand what Wynonna is saying. Her sister’s words work their way through her mind like molasses and she can feel the anger radiating off of Wynonna even through the phone line. “Wait wait, what are you saying? Are, are you in Purgatory Wynonna?”  
  
“Yes I’m in fucking Purgatory!” her sister growls back at her. “I came to surprise you at this stupid graduation because you’re the stupid valedictorian and you’re not freaking here! What the hell, Waverly?”  
  
“I, I’m at Champ’s.”  
  
“Well what the hell are you doing there? You’re _supposed_ to be graduating!”  
  
“I know but he’s playing his video game and he’s almost got to level seventy on just the one guy. It’s just, not something that ever really happens so, you know…”  
  
The excuse sounds lame even to her and she winces even before Wynonna can respond. The other end of the line is silent for a second and Waverly bites her lip, waiting.  
  
“Your asshole boyfriend is playing a video game. That’s why you aren’t at your graduation.”  
  
“He isn’t an asshole.” Waverly glances over to Champ, but he’s still entirely focused on his game, completely unaware of the conversation she’s having. “And it’s impressive.”  
  
“There’s nothing impressive about putting a stupid video game before your girlfriend’s graduation, Waverly! And why the fuck would you let him? Hell, why the fuck would _you_ put his stupid video game before your graduation?”  
  
“It’s not-” Waverly begins and then cuts herself off. She fiddles with the necklace she’s wearing, too agitated to sit still. “We didn’t mean to, we just, just lost track of the time.”  
  
“Bullshit. You’re too anal to lose track of the time, especially when it’s something as important as this.”  
  
The guilt in Waverly’s gut burns into anger suddenly, and she’s glaring across the room, focused on nothing. “Yeah well, what would you know about putting someone else before yourself? Maybe I’m here because I _like_ seeing my boyfriend happy!”  
  
There’s silence on the phone now, but this time Waverly can feel the charge in the air around her, and knows Wynonna feels it too. She doesn’t apologize even though a tiny part of her wants to, instead she just stands her ground.  
  
“My bus back to the airport leaves in two hours,” her sister finally says, and a pang of regret flares in Waverly’s chest. “I’m going to Shorty’s, gonna drink there until it’s time for me to leave. Either come see me or don’t, it’s up to you. And tell your idiot boyfriend his girlfriend is more important than his stupid-ass video games.”  
  
Before Waverly can say anything, the line goes dead and Wynonna’s gone. She just sits there for a second, staring off, and then finally she hangs up her phone and swallows thickly. It feels like her heart is beating in the pit of her stomach and it has left her feeling nervous, a little nauseous, and taken her right back to the guilt. She stares at her phone for a second but already knows exactly what she’s going to do, and the next moment she’s standing up, saying, “Champ, come on, pause the game, we need to go.”  
  
A half hour later Waverly is leading the way into Shorty’s, Champ’s hand in hers as he trails just behind her. Technically it’s still early, the bar isn’t open, but she finds the space occupied by her aunt, uncle, Shorty, and her sister. Shorty, Gus, and Curtis are all sitting around one of the tables and chatting, but Wynonna is at the bar, a bottle of whiskey beside her with a glass she’s currently draining the contents of. The first three all glance over at her as she steps into the room and the guilt flutters in her stomach again, but she ignores all of them in favor of keeping her focus on her sister. Wynonna doesn’t so much as look over when she hears the door open, just stares in front of her as she pours another glass of whiskey.  
  
Mixed emotions flare up in Waverly’s chest at seeing her big sister sitting in front of her and it’s hard to tell which to focus on. There’s still the guilt, both from missing her graduation and from yelling at Wynonna, but mixed in with it is this utter sense of relief she wasn’t expecting. Something in her chest blooms and aches at the same time and she quickly finds herself blinking back a few tears as a lump rises in her throat. It’s been almost four years since she last saw Wynonna and though she’s always known she missed her, only now does she realize just how much. Wynonna looks pretty much how she remembers her sister looking those four years ago - luscious hair that falls across her shoulders in waves, slim figure, that take-no-shit leather jacket she always wears - and the child still inside of Waverly wants nothing more than to curl up against her side and hold onto her, but instead she just grips Champ’s hand a little tighter as she makes her way over to the bar.  
  
Wynonna glances over at them when they’re only a few feet away but then she’s staring back at the whiskey, a finger tapping against her glass. Waverly stops beside her sister, unable to keep herself from taking in every detail.  
  
“Wynonna. Hi.” The words come out a little quiet, and Waverly nearly winces at how lame a greeting it is. After four years, that’s the best she can do? Pushing past it she tugs on Champ’s hand, pulling him up closer and then nods to him. “You remember Champ, yeah? My boyfriend.” She makes sure to give her sister a look, the “Be nice” a silent warning she’s sure Wynonna gets, but her sister just glances over again, looking him up and down once before turning back to her whiskey. Turning slightly towards Champ, Waverly continues, “And Champ, this is my sister, Wynonna.”  
  
One of Champ’s eyebrows ticks up as does the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah, I remember you. The freaky chick everyone was always talking about, yeah?”  
  
Waverly closes her eyes for a second and wants to smack herself on the forehead. That was so not the best way for him to officially meet Wynonna.  
  
For her part Wynonna gives a single nod as she lifts up her glass. “Yep,” she replies, popping the p, “And you’re Chimp, the asshole who plays video games through his girlfriend’s graduation.”  
  
“Uh, it’s Champ,” he tells her, leaning against the bar. She just rolls her eyes as she tosses back the whiskey and as she does the rest of her words must register in Champ’s head because all of a sudden his eyes widen. “Oh shit babe, was that today?” Waverly gives him a little smile and a shrug, trying not to mind that he entirely forgot while Wynonna glares into her glass. “Damn, sorry we missed that, you’da been so cute in your cap and gown ‘n shit.”  
  
Waverly can see Wynonna’s grip tightening around her glass and she’s fairly sure Champ is about to get a fist to his face so she steps directly between them, turning and flashing a big smile at her boyfriend. “Champ, why don’t you go play a game of pool while I catch up with my sister?” He looks between them and then shrugs.  
  
“Yeah sure, whatever.” He grabs her waist, pulling her closer to his side and plants a kiss to her cheek that she just smiles at, and then leaves them to head over to the nearest pool table. Waverly watches him go for just a second and then turns her full attention back on her sister. There’s still tension in Wynonna’s shoulders and Waverly can feel similar tension along her spine so she sits, taking the stool right next to her sister’s.  
  
“So are we gonna fight some more?” she asks, half joking, half serious. Wynonna spins the cup in circles on the bar in front of her, not looking up, and Waverly hates how much she wishes her sister would just look at her.  
  
“Why bother?” Wynonna replies, “Shit’s in the past, nothing we can do about it now.” She shrugs and just keeps playing with the empty glass.  
  
“You know I definitely would have been there if I’d known you were coming. Why didn’t you tell me?”  
  
“Wanted it to be a surprise. Got in late last night, spent a couple of hours at a crappy motel and I’m heading out again in just a little while.” Finally she looks over, meeting Waverly’s eyes. “Doesn’t matter if I was there or not though, you shoulda been. You worked your ass off, Waverly, that was your stupid speech to give, you deserved the recognition.”  
  
Waverly shrugs, momentarily looking away. “Well you know, it was just a silly speech. Not a big deal, I’m sure Jimmy’s was even better than mine would have been.”  
  
She can feel her sister’s eyes on her now and when she looks back over there’s an openness to them she doesn’t remember Wynonna ever really showing, especially out in public at all. “You deserved it, baby girl. And that dickwad’s speech sucked ass, your’s would’ve been ten times better. Now get over here.”  
  
Wynonna lifts one arm, gives her a look, and then Waverly is smiling as she scoots her stool over closer. The next moment her big sister’s arm is around her shoulders and she’s tucking herself into Wynonna’s side, and all at once Waverly feels safe in a way she hasn’t felt in four years. She closes her eyes and breathes in the combination of whiskey, leather, and floral shampoo that will only ever be Wynonna and rests her head on her sister’s shoulder.  
  
“I’m glad you’re here,” she murmurs. The arm around her gives her shoulders a little squeeze and she feels it as Wynonna presses a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Me too,” Wynonna tells her, and then the two of them sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, content just to be touching again after spending so many years so far apart.  
  
“How’s Greece?” Waverly finally asks as she sits back up, though still close enough that her shoulder presses against Wynonna’s. Her sister shrugs as she begins to pour another glass of whiskey for herself.  
  
“Same as always,” she says, “Big. Busy.” She lifts the glass but doesn’t drink, just swirls the alcohol around a little absently. “What about you? What’s next for that big brain of yours?” She flashes her sister a smirk and then takes a sip of the drink.  
  
Waverly shrugs. “I’m taking online classes. Studying ancient cultures and languages.”  
  
What she doesn’t tell Wynonna is why that’s what she’s chosen to study - it’s going to help her take down the revenants and end the Earp curse - or that between junior and senior year she’s already got a few classes down, and will be taking more this summer. She’s learning as much as she can as fast as she can, preparing herself for the day she turns twenty-seven, but she can’t say as much to her sister.  
  
Unsurprisingly Wynonna makes a face, and it isn’t at the whiskey burning her throat.  
  
“That sounds boring as shit,” she decides and shakes her head. “Seriously, how are we related?”  
  
Waverly grins and nudges her shoulder. “Just lucky I guess. And it isn’t boring, it’s fascinating!” She launches into some of what she’s learning already and what she knows is coming up and before long Wynonna is interrupting her and calling her a nerd. The two go back and forth, easily falling back into the rhythm they’ve always had between them, the weirdness from only a few minutes ago easily vanishing. Everyone else in the bar gives the sisters their space, and for a while it feels almost like Wynonna never left.  
  
That moment ends far too soon for Waverly. More than an hour has gone by when Wynonna finally stands up, pushing the empty glass and half-full bottle of whiskey away from her. Waverly’s heart sinks, even though she tries to hide it.  
  
“Alright, I gotta be getting back to the bus station,” Wynonna states, and Waverly’s glad at least to see a flash of regret cross her sister’s face. Wynonna misses her too then, that’s something, though apparently not enough to make her stay. She reaches out and yanks Waverly against her, giving her a real hug this time. “Congrats on the graduating and shit, baby girl.”  
  
“Thanks Nonna,” Waverly replies, wrapping her arms around her sister’s waist. “I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing.”  
  
Wynonna pulls back just enough to catch Waverly’s eyes, and there’s a seriousness there the little sister can’t help but notice. “I came all this way for you, Waverly. That’s the farthest thing from nothing.”  
  
Just then Champ whoops behind her, probably winning his game of pool, and Wynonna makes a face.  
  
“He really is a good guy, Wynonna,” Waverly tries and her sister rolls her eyes. She finally takes a step back and then looks over to Champ where he’s now talking to Shorty as he goes around the table and starts setting up another game. Wynonna makes another face and then looks at Waverly.  
  
“Look Waverly. I don’t care who you’re dating. Just never forget you’re better than everyone else in this balls-sucking town.” The tips of Waverly’s mouth twitch as she tries to hold back a smile, and Wynonna’s just curl up. She grabs the back of Waverly’s head and then plants another kiss against her hair and Waverly aches with wishing she would stay, but knows it’s not going to happen.  
  
“Do you need a ride to the bus station?” she asks instead of giving voice to her wish and her sister shakes her head.  
  
“Nah, it’s not far, and I might as well walk some of this whiskey off before the bus and plane.”  
  
“Okay. Let me know when you land?” Wynonna smirks again and then shrugs one shoulder. “Sure Wave, will do.” The two sisters stare at each other for another moment but then Wynonna breaks away, stepping around Waverly and heading towards the door. She just nods to Gus and Curtis where they’re sitting at a table but doesn’t stop, and then she’s out of the bar and disappearing from Waverly’s life all over again.  
  
After the door closes behind her sister, Waverly sinks back down into her stool and lets out a heavy sigh. Her arms cross on top of the bar and her head sinks against them as her eyes clench shut. Once again there are too many emotions swirling through her for her to identify them all and it exhausts her, but mostly it just hurts to be left behind like always. That hurt is pooling in her gut when she hears movement near her, and then a hand is patting her lightly on one arm. When she looks up, Shorty is behind the bar across from her, a sympathetic look in his eyes.  
  
“Don’t worry,” he tells her, giving her a smile, “Wynonna’ll be back.”  
  
“What makes you so sure? She hates Purgatory. It took her four years to come back this time.”  
  
He turns to grab two clean glasses from the shelf behind him, and then he’s setting them in front of her and pouring a little whiskey into both. “I shouldn’t be doing this, but since it’s a special day and all.” He gives her a wink, and then slides one of the glasses across the bar to her before picking up the second. With the drink now in hand, he looks at her again and shrugs. “She may hate Purgatory, but she loves you. More ‘n anything. She won’t be able to stay away too long.”  
  
Shorty holds out his glass between them, and Waverly picks up her own. She stares at the golden brown liquid for a second and then reaches her glass forward. “I hope you’re right.”  
  
The rims of the glasses clink together as Shorty replies, “I am.” They then both drink, and as the alcohol burns down her throat it reignites the hope buried deep in Waverly’s gut, the hope that someday she’ll have her family beside her once again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating earlier this week, the holidays were a whirlwind of things to do so not only did I forget about updating on Wednesday, I also haven't written at all this week. Because I don't have much more ready, I will be going back to just one update a week. Hope this doesn't disappoint anyone too much!
> 
> Also with this chapter we have officially made it to season one! From here on out we'll be looking at moments I've created to fill in gaps between episodes, or looking more closely at moments from certain episodes to continue digging into the Earp sisters' relationship.

In Greece, Wynonna doesn’t think about demons or curses. Her days are spent working odd jobs of both the legal and illegal variety, and her nights are spent working her way through bars and the people in them. Her life is as normal as the next person’s, and it’s easy enough to ignore everything that has happened to put her in the city.  
  
There is one time of the year when it isn’t so easy to ignore, and every year when it rolls around Wynonna can feel her heart beat just a little faster and the nervous anticipation build in her gut.  
  
She turns twenty barely a month after leaving Purgatory, and she’s still too busy getting her new life in Greece together to really notice it. When she realizes what day it is she just shrugs and goes about her day, ignoring everything about her birthday except for the phone call she gets from Waverly.  
  
A year later and she’s twenty-one and still she doesn’t think much about it. Six years is an eternity for someone who lives their life day-to-day, anything could happen between now and then.  
  
At twenty-two Wynonna pauses longer, feels something shift in her gut, but then tries to ignore everything except for the blaring music around her and then the hands that end up on her later. She still has years left before she really needs to worry, so she’s going to do what she does best and ignore what’s coming.  
  
Twenty-three is harder to ignore. She’s been living in Greece for three years now but Daddy’s words still run in an endless loop in the back of her mind, as do his screams. The night of her birthday she wakes up in a cold sweat, haunting laughter ringing in her ears. Only half a bottle of whiskey gets her back to sleep.  
  
She knows there’s no ignoring it when she turns twenty-four. For days leading up to her birthday she has voices tumbling around in her head - something that only makes her feel as crazy as everyone believes she is - and they just won’t shut up. Daddy and Willa’s voices are loudest, pieces of the revenant stories playing on a loop, but with each one comes the voice of a different doctor, therapist, or Purgatory asshole, all trying to tell her demons aren’t real. She nearly fucks up a simple B&E, a job she should be able to pull off in her sleep by now, just because the back and forth won’t let her focus. She uses a stranger later to distract her, a little bit of strenuous sex managing to push everything back.  
  
She starts thinking about birthday number twenty-five as soon as it hits September, and for three weeks she walks around with lead in her gut. A week after her birthday and physically she doesn’t feel any different, but she catches herself looking over her shoulder more often now, suddenly less comfortable in the bustling city than she was in August. Daddy always said the revenants can’t leave the Ghost River Triangle, but what did Daddy know? He also said they weren’t supposed to be able to walk on Earp land, and look how well that worked out for him. She starts walking around with a switchblade in her pocket and another tucked into her boot, just in case.  
  
When she turns twenty-six, she is blackout drunk. It was even earlier this year that she started thinking about her birthday, her last one _before_ , and so she ushers in her twenty-sixth year with whiskey in her veins. She’s so blasted she loses her cell phone at some point during the night and misses Waverly’s birthday text, and it’s days before she gets a new one.  
  
September 1st, 2016, and Wynonna’s heart is already racing. She’s nearing the single-digit countdown now and she hates the way her stomach rolls every time she thinks about her upcoming birthday. The days go by too fast, life itself turns into a blur even as she feels like she’s frozen in place. Every time she thinks about her birthday she tries to tell herself it doesn’t matter, it’s just a number. Everybody in Purgatory said she was crazy, that curses and demons aren’t real so there’s nothing special about this birthday. Even if they’re wrong she’s half a world away from where the revenants are supposed to be so they can’t hurt her. She’s safe in Athens from either the assholes who want her dead or the insanity that lives in her head, and she has absolutely zero plans to leave any time soon. Let her twenty-seventh birthday come, it’s not going to matter.  
  
Wynonna wants to believe that, tells herself she does, but she honestly isn’t too terribly surprised when she gets the email. The message itself and who it’s from wasn’t expected, but the implication feels like exactly what the last fifteen years have been leading up to. Five days before her birthday, Wynonna checks her email and a single sentence nearly stops her heart. 

_They’ve caught up to me._

It’s from her uncle, and the second she reads the words a sense of dread builds in her gut. She tries to ignore it - does ignore the email - but the feeling doesn’t go away. Two days later when her phone rings and she sees it’s her aunt calling her, somehow she knows what Gus is going to say even before she answers. Wynonna lifts the phone slowly, her heart already pounding so loudly it’s all she can hear.  
  
The crack in Gus’s voice when she says her name is all the confirmation Wynonna needs. Like it or not, she’s going home.

***

Wynonna’s on the ground, laying in a pile of dirt and leaves, when she turns twenty-seven. Growls that sound more like roars echo through the trees, and they’re definitely not from coyotes. She’s been dragged around and thrown into trees and her heart is pounding wildly in her chest, but as her phone goes off in her pocket, something about the adrenaline racing through her veins morphs. There’s still terror, it still clogs her throat, but something that burns like fire sparks through that terror and she feels a jolt tremor through her body. It’s as though every nerve ending in her body has suddenly woken up, and she gasps as it races through her. Her lips curl up as her heart continues to race, now for a new reason.  
  
Before she realizes it she’s somehow on her feet again, the tire iron still in her hand, and she turns toward the figure she knows without question is responsible for removing Kiersten’s head from her body.  
  
She steps towards it, this new fire igniting her veins. 

***

Wynonna swirls the bourbon in her glass without drinking it, just staring at the grain of the bar. It’s smooth from decades of use, and here and there along its surface people dug into the wood, carving out letters or just lines as boredom or alcohol overtook them. She doesn’t notice any of it though, is too busy trying to wrap her mind around everything that has happened over the last forty-eight hours. The music and drunken laughter taking place around her might as well be muted for all she notices it.  
  
A hand holding a bottle of bourbon enters her vision, breaking her out of her stupor. Looking up, she sees Shorty giving her a little grin as he tops off her drink.  
  
“Don’t remember the last time you managed to nurse a single drink for more ‘n ten minutes.” She mirrors the grin, and shrugs one shoulder.  
  
“Yeah well, I was just a little distracted. Thinking.” She winces as she remembers their very brief interaction earlier in the day. “Sorry about the bike, by the way. She was a real beauty.”  
  
Shorty pours out his own drink and lifts up the glass. “She was a good girl, served us well like any good bike should.” Wynonna nods as she raises her glass as well and they both drink to a good bike. As Shorty lowers his glass his eyes shift down to the badge on the bar Wynonna can’t help but keep looking at and he shakes his head. “So Purgatory has another Earp enforcing the law now, huh?” His grin grows. “This’ll be something to see.”  
  
A scoff rolls up the back of Wynonna’s throat. “Yeah sure, ‘enforcing.’ Dolls must be desperate if he wants me on his team, yeah?”  
  
The bartender shrugs, flashing a smile and nod to one of the patrons who calls his name before leaving the bar. Looking back at Wynonna, he tells her, “Don’t think desperate is the word I’d use. Everyone in Purgatory knows you’re as tough as they come. What can I get ya?”  
  
The last bit is directed at a couple of men who’ve stopped not far from Wynonna. She ignores them as Shorty gets them their beers, placing her bourbon down on the bar and grabbing the badge instead. She’s seen plenty of them in her lifetime but never had one of her own and it feels strange holding it instead of having it flashed in front of her face. It should feel like this insignificant little thing, but for some reason it weighs heavily in her palm.  
  
Shorty finishes getting the beers and then turns back to her. “How’s your aunt doing?”  
  
“Alright,” Wynonna tells him with a nod. “The doctors wanted to keep her overnight but Gus wasn’t having it. Waverly’s picking her up now.”  
  
He grins again, shaking his head. “Nothing keeps the Gibson women down long. She ‘n your mother used to get up to all kinds of things, never slowed down.”  
  
It’s been a long time since Wynonna has thought about her mother in any way other than just gone. A shadow of a smile tries to pull at her lips and she nearly lets it. “Yeah? I wouldn’t’ve guessed that.”  
  
“Trust me Wynonna, you got more than just Earp blood in your veins,” he says, even as someone at the other end of the bar calls his name. He flashes her another grin as he steps back. “You got Gibson in ya too, no question about it.” He sets the bottle of bourbon down on the bar in front of her. “I’ll leave this with you.” With a final nod he moves over to the group calling for him and Wynonna watches him go, thinking about what he said.  
  
Maybe there is Gibson blood in her, but that’s not the half caught up in a decades-old curse. The Gibsons aren’t why she’s got this badge in her hand or gun stuck in her boot, it’s entirely Earp.  
  
Wynonna shoves the badge into her pocket and returns to her bourbon, this time actually drinking it. The alcohol helps her to stay out of her own head and actually pay attention to the noises around her, so she hears the footsteps that stop just behind her a few minutes later. The little hairs at the back of her neck stand up and her immediate thought is another revenant has found her. She can feel the weight of Peacemaker in her boot and wonders how quickly she’ll be able to pull it out if she needs to. Trying not to appear on edge, she casually turns her stool.  
  
It isn’t a revenant behind her but someone just as unwelcome, and Wynonna’s grip on her glass tightens. Three guys all in Bandito jackets are looking at her. One of them she doesn’t recognize at all, likely a new recruit since she ditched the gang, but the other two she hasn’t forgotten at all. Stix and Jace stare down at her and she stares right back, a flutter of satisfaction rising up in her gut when she sees the white scar across Jace’s cheek. The white-hot hatred she had for him has dimmed since her helmet connected with his face but every now and then she can still feel Joanne’s blood coating her hands, and a flicker of that same hatred sparks up now.  
  
“Heard you were back in town,” Jace sneers, taking a step ahead of the other two. “Had to see it for myself. You were smart to run when you did and dumb to come back. I still owe you for what you did to my face.”  
  
Faux-sympathy pulls at Wynonna’s brow as she gives him a look. “Tch, come on now, you can’t give me all the credit, Jace. You were born ugly, I just added to it.” She tilts her head as though she’s studying the scar. “Actually, that might be the most interesting thing about you now. Let’s be real here, it’s not like you were ever going to be a looker. At least now you have a story to tell the chicks as you fail to get in their pants. Though when they find out it was another chick who gave that to you...” She throws her hands up with a shrug.  
  
Jace glares at her, his lips pulling back in a snarl. “You fucking bitch,” he growls, taking another step towards her and Wynonna’s fingers tingle as she thinks about Peacemaker in her boot, but before she can draw the gun another one is being pressed against the side of Jace’s head.  
  
“My my, now I know I have been gone for quite some time but that is still no way to speak to a lady.”  
  
Where the hell the Wyatt Earp fanboy from earlier came from Wynonna has no idea, but he’s back now and standing right beside her with the muzzle of his gun pressed lightly against Jace’s skin. With his free hand he tilts his hat up, a smirk pulling up beneath his moustache as he gives the bikers a look. “Surely you gentlemen weren’t about to gang up on this beautiful woman right here. An act such as that would simply be unforgivable.” He glances over to Wynonna and flashes her a smile, and she wants to both smirk and roll her eyes at the same time.  
  
“Who the fuck is this?” Jace spits, but he doesn’t move with the gun still pressed against him. “This your new boytoy, you gonna fuck him over same as you did Phil?”  
  
“Hey.” Wynonna gets up from her stool and closes the space between them. “Who I fuck and how I do it is none of your goddamned business.” She jabs his chest with her finger and feels a little rush of satisfaction when he just barely flinches. She reaches into her pocket and sees them all stiffen, knows Stix and the other guy are likely wondering if they can move faster than the cowboy with the gun, but a whole different kind of surprise passes over all of them when she pulls out the badge instead of a weapon.  
  
Wynonna pats the badge against Jace’s chest. “Things have changed boys, you’re looking at an officer of the law now.” Saying that still sounds like a joke with a bad punchline to her, but she doesn’t think on it too much at the moment. “If you want to remain free to ride your bikes, drink your beer, and screw your women you’ll keep your distance from me and my friends.”  
  
Technically the cowboy isn’t her friend, but after the way he just stepped in here she figures he could probably use a little protection. At least now she won’t feel too guilty if the Banditos find him and beat the living shit out of him; she tried to warn them away.  
  
Jace’s brow shoots up in surprise before he lets out a bark of laughter.  
  
“ _You_?” he exclaims, “They made _you_ a cop?” He throws his head back, shaking it. “Damn, they must be some kind of desperate if they’re making Wynonna Earp a cop!” Stix smirks while the other guy just watches on, his eyes not leaving the gun.  
  
“Couldn’t agree more,” Wynonna tells him, shrugging. “But they did, and I am. Which means it would be easy for me to go in and tell my boss everything I know about the Banditos and their crew. The jobs they pulled, who they hawk their stolen goods to.” She raises an eyebrow; Jace and Stix aren’t grinning anymore, but she is.  
  
“Bitch, you do that you’d go down too.” It’s the first thing Stix has said, and Wynonna’s eyes shift over to him.  
  
The cowboy shakes his head. “My friend, you need to learn how to speak to a lady. I would be much obliged to teach you, but it will be a hard lesson.”  
  
Jace wrinkles his nose in a sneer. “There ain’t no lady here, just a bitch hiding behind a badge.”  
  
The fact that the cowboy's gun is still pressed lightly against his temple speaks volumes to how smart Jace is, but rather than point that out Wynonna just rolls her eyes. She bends down and grabs Peacemaker before anyone else can react, and all three sets of eyes go to it as she holds it up, aiming at Jace. The barrel remains cool and silver; definitely not a revenant then. Too bad.  
  
“I don’t hide behind anything or anyone,” she tells them. “You want a fight, I’ll be more than happy to give you one. I bet your other cheek would look just as ugly with a matching scar.”  
  
“Come on Jace,” the third guy finally says, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder and yanking him back. “She ain’t worth it.” Jace glares at her for another second before shaking him off.  
  
“You shouldn’ta come back to Purgatory, bitch.” He looks between her and the cowboy, and then nods towards her while holding the man’s stare. “Better steer clear of her, friend.” The word is mocking, as is the smirk he gives them. “People tend to get hurt around her. Especially when there’re guns involved.” He glances down at Peacemaker and then back up at Wynonna, his sneer growing. “Better be careful with that, Wynonna. You only have so much family left, after all.”  
  
With that the three of them turn around and stalk out of the bar, everyone giving them a wide berth as they go.  
  
“You might think on getting a proper holster for that gun,” the cowboy tells her as the door closes behind the Banditos. He tucks his own gun back into the holster on his belt before pulling his long coat back over it. When Wynonna looks over, he nods at Peacemaker. “Drawing from your boot can take up precious seconds that one cannot always afford.”  
  
Wynonna makes a noise before falling back onto her stool. “I’ll take that into consideration.” Directly in contradiction to her words, she jams Peacemaker back into her boot and the corners of the man’s mouth twitch. “And you know so much about guns, I take it.”  
  
His smirk grows even as he takes his hat off and holds it to his chest. “Oh I have spent my fair share of time around them, I suppose.” He nods to the stool beside her. “Might I join you, or are you enjoying a solo affair this night?”  
  
There is a teasing, playful glimmer in his eyes that definitely isn’t just a trick of the lighting in the bar, and warning bells go off in her head even as the electricity of attraction jolts in her gut. This guy is without a doubt trouble, and it just makes her more attracted to him, but she ignores it for now and just shrugs.  
  
“It’s a free country, sit where you want.” His smirk continues to grow as he nods, and then he’s sitting and setting his hat down on the bar in front of him. As he does his eyes flicker down to the badge where it landed when she tossed it back on the bar, and an eyebrow quirks up.  
  
“I suppose congratulations are in order. How lucky I am, to find myself in the company of such a beautiful law-woman. I see you are following in your great-great-granddaddy’s footsteps.”  
  
“Hm,” Wynonna just grunts. “Not sure it counts when it’s only under duress.” Shorty is still busy with a large group of patrons so she stands on the rungs of her stool and reaches across and under the bar where she knows some of the glasses are kept. Grabbing one she pulls it back and slides it over to the cowboy and gestures to the liquor bottle Shorty left behind. “Hope you like bourbon.”  
  
He shrugs, the easy smile not leaving as he reaches for the bottle. “I am not picky when it comes to the wonders of liquor.” As he pours himself a drink, he looks back over at her. “What kind of duress puts a person on what many believe to be the right side of the law?”  
  
Wynonna glances at the badge in front of her as she picks up her own glass. “Let’s just say there are things about my family my new boss needs access to, and he’s not above blackmail to get me to help him. And it’s not that hard to find blackmail on Purgatory’s finest screw up.”  
  
“Well, I certainly cannot argue on finest, but screw up? I can’t imagine it.”  
  
Wynonna snorts, almost spitting the sip she just took back out. “Trust me…” She trails off, ticking an eyebrow up, and he lifts one hand to press against his chest.  
  
“How terribly rude of me, I do not believe I have properly introduced myself. Call me Henry.”  
  
“Okay Hank. Trust me, Jace might be an asshole but he’s not wrong about how laughable it is anyone gave me a badge. I’m usually in handcuffs, not carrying them. And not just in the fun way.” It’s her turn to smirk and his only grows, his mustache twitching a little with the movement.  
  
“Well I too have spent some time playing on both sides of the law,” he tells her, leaning a little more heavily against the bar, “and I must admit, playing the hero is seldom even half the fun as playing the villain.” She shares his grin and then they both drink, eyeing each other over their glasses.  
  
“So what brings you back to the bar twice in one day, Hank?” Wynonna asks as she puts her glass back down.  
  
“Rowdy neighbors,” he answers, still holding his glass up. “Figured if I wasn’t going to be able to get any sleep anyway, might as well find myself a drink and some good company instead. And how fortuitous of me to have found both.” He raises his glass towards her before tossing the rest of the contents back.  
  
One corner of Wynonna’s mouth pulls up; this guy is the embodiment of smooth-talking trouble, which is one hundred percent her type. Somehow he even manages to make that ridiculous moustache look sexy and she has no doubt it wouldn’t take more than a few drinks and a mere suggestion for her to end up in his bed. Or on a couch, table, or even against a wall, somehow she really doubts he would care where they ended up, but wherever it was their clothes would land a few feet away. There’s enough going on in her life now she doesn’t really think she has time for even the briefest fling with a stranger, but damn does a part of her want it anyway. For the moment though she just raises an eyebrow and pours out another drink for herself, telling him, “And you just make it a habit to stick your gun in whatever trouble’s going on, huh?”  
  
Henry tips his glass towards her, amusement dancing along his expression. “My gun is always available to you, Miss Earp. Consider me at your disposal.” He winks even as he leans back, and Wynonna snorts as she lifts her glass up.  
  
“Uh yeah, I’m not a ‘Miss’ anything, or a ma’am. Or a lady, even. Just Wynonna, the crazy chick with a big gun. Who also happens to have a drinking problem.” She moves as though to cheers and then throws back her bourbon and he watches her as she does, neither of them looking away from the other.  
  
“Well then, Wynonna,” Henry continues, nodding towards her as he says her name, “my offer still stands. I am at your service should you require it.”  
  
It’s a little too convenient, the way he has suddenly shown up in her life right as she’s finally coming to terms with being the heir and the revheads popping back up again. Everybody in Purgatory either hates her, wants her dead, wants to use her for something, or is her sister, so there’s really only two categories he can fit in. Honestly right now Wynonna is just hoping he isn’t a revenant considering how much she wants to take him upstairs and make good use of Waverly and Champ’s apartment.  
  
Luckily Wynonna’s phone suddenly starts ringing in her pocket, saving her from adding another bad decision to a very long list of bad decisions. She fishes it out to see a text from her sister and doesn’t reply, just stuffs it back into her pocket before setting her glass back down on the bar.  
  
“Well Hank this has been fun,” she states as she swipes the badge from the bar and shoves that in a pocket as well. “Gotta run.” She nods to the bottle still sitting between them. “Just tell Shorty to add the bottle to my tab.”  
  
“Well I am much obliged.” Henry puts his hat back on solely to tip it towards her. “I shall have to pick up the tab for our next bottle.” The way he’s looking at her tells Wynonna he has no doubt there will in fact be a next bottle and she can’t help but think he’s probably right. It’s not a terrible idea, she decides, it can’t hurt for her to keep an eye on him until she knows for sure if he’s really a friend or foe.  
  
It’s the most responsible thing she can do, really.  
  
She holds two fingers up, giving him a mock salute. “See you around, Henry.”  
  
“Oh you surely shall,” he says as he pours out another glass and Wynonna bites back a smile, shaking her head as she turns around and heads out of the bar.  
  
Once she’s in Gus’s truck and driving away from the bar, Wynonna’s mood shifts and she forgets about Henry. Once again everything that has happened over the last forty-eight hours hits her, and her grip on the steering wheel tightens the more she thinks about it. She now knows for a fact she isn’t crazy like everyone has spent the last fifteen years saying she is, but that just means Wyatt’s revenants are real and they are coming for her. Even with Peacemaker stuffed into her boot she’s not sure she’s really ready for any of this; she feels like a fraud, knows she’s the wrong sister for this job, and is sure it’s only a matter of time until she fucks this up like she does everything else. Wynonna reaches forward and cranks the radio as she leaves town, hoping some hard rock will help to drown out her thoughts. It doesn’t quite work, but at least it helps the drive go by faster.  
  
When Wynonna reaches the McCready ranch Waverly’s jeep is already parked in front of it and there are lights on inside. She parks the truck and turns it off and then heads inside and isn’t particularly surprised to find Gus sitting on the couch downstairs while Waverly fusses around her, fluffing pillows and shaking out blankets.  
  
“Don’t you think you’d be more comfortable in your bed, Gus?” Wynonna asks, tossing the keys in the bowl on the counter.  
  
Apparently it’s an argument her aunt and sister have been having, because Waverly throws up her hands. “Thank you! See Gus, Wynonna thinks you should be in bed too. You need to get some rest.”  
  
Gus shoots Wynonna a look who just holds up her hands, trying to back herself out of whatever she just stepped in. “I been in a bed all day, I’d like a little time upright for now,” their aunt tells them, stubbornly remaining where she is on the couch. Even Wynonna can tell she’s sitting a little stiffly and can’t be all that comfortable, but she decides to just stay out of it.  
  
“But the doctors say you should lay down as much as possible for the next few days,” Waverly argues, both hands going to her hips. She gestures to her sister. “Wynonna even put fresh flowers in your room to make it feel more cozy.”  
  
“You won’t be turning my own home into a prison, Waverly Earp,” Gus informs her, giving the younger sister a look. She reaches out when Waverly just continues to fuss, taking her hand in both of her own. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate what you girls are trying to do, but this is my body and I’ll decide when it needs rest.”  
  
Waverly looks like she wants to argue some more, her eyes darting over the visible cuts and bruises on Gus’s face, but she must think better of it because she ends up just nodding. “Okay, whatever you say Gus. But I’m staying here tonight in case you need anything.”  
  
“What, you don’t think I can take care of her?” Wynonna demands lightly, taking a seat and falling back in her uncle’s old recliner. “I resent that.”  
  
Her sister flashes her a small smile. “I don’t have any belief that you’ll remember to remind her to take her meds, or that you’ll be up early enough in the morning to make her breakfast.” Waverly’s smile grows as she looks between them. “I’m making my uber famous banana muffins.”  
  
Wynonna’s mouth begins to water just thinking about them so she shrugs and flips her hand at her sister. “Okay fine, you win, stay. Just make sure to save me some muffins.” Waverly giggles and nods, while Gus just looks between them.  
  
“I can take care of myself, you know,” she reminds them. “Been doing it for years, and I also took care of you girls and your uncle at the same time.”  
  
None of them want to think of their most recently lost family member at the moment even as a pang of regret hits each one of them. Waverly just rushes past it as she sits down beside their aunt and carefully wraps her arms around her waist.  
  
“We know you can, Gus. You just don’t have to right now. It’s our turn to take care of you for a little while, okay?” Gus grumbles a little but doesn’t argue, and the corner of Wynonna’s mouth quirks up as she watches the two of them. They look like a family, sitting together like that, and she almost feels like she’s intruding until Waverly looks over at her and flashes her a smile. Wynonna returns it, but the smile wavers a little when she glances down, noticing the slight bruising along her sister’s neck. It’s going to be a long time before she can push the image of Waverly hanging out of her mind and she’s sure she’s in for at least a nightmare or two before it happens. It’ll go great with the nightmares she still has about Willa being dragged out of the window.  
  
The three sit in silence for a few minutes until Gus clears her throat and pats Waverly’s arm. “How about a drink, Waverly? Wanna grab us all something?”  
  
“Sure,” Waverly says as she pushes herself back to her feet, “but your drink is gonna be tea, Gus. The doctors said no alcohol, remember?”  
  
Their aunt makes a face, one that Wynonna mirrors. “Ouch. That’s just cruel and unusual punishment.” She catches her sister’s eye before she leaves and an eyebrow ticks up. “Don’t even try that tea shit with me, baby girl. I’ll take whiskey.”  
  
Waverly just rolls her eyes and shakes her head, telling her, “Tea is actually so good for you, Wynonna, you really should give it a try,” When Wynonna swats half-heartedly at her as she passes, she shakes her head again. “Okay fine, I’ll grab the whiskey too.”  
  
The younger Earp disappears into the kitchen leaving Wynonna and Gus alone, and when she does Wynonna shifts to make herself more comfortable. She pushes back in the chair and pulls out the footrest and sinks back, letting the exhaustion from the day finally hit her. Her muscles ache a little from the explosion and then kicking the revenants’ asses, and it only takes a second before her eyes close to fully succumb to the exhaustion.  
  
“Wynonna.” Her aunt’s voice pulls her back to the present and she opens her eyes even as she grunts in response. Gus is watching her, and when Wynonna sees the way her brow is furrowed and lips are pursed she sits up a little more, more focused than she was a moment ago.  
  
“What is it, Gus? Are you feeling okay?”  
  
Her aunt ignores the questions, just shakes her head and looks away. “I owe you an apology, Wynonna. All these years I thought.” She closes her eyes for just a second, and when they open she’s looking at her niece again and Wynonna shifts uncomfortably. “I thought it was all nonsense, your stories about demons and curses. I thought the doctors were all right, that you were unstable like your mother but I was wrong. We were all wrong.”  
  
“It’s alright Gus-” Wynonna starts to say but her aunt cuts her off.  
  
“No it ain’t. None of it’s right. You went through more shit when you were young than most people have to put up with in a lifetime, and I wasn’t there for you. Not like I shoulda been. Curtis and me, we shoulda been there, you shoulda been here, and you weren’t and that’s my fault. You deserved - deserve - better than that, and I shoulda done everything to make sure you were with your family, not one set of strangers after another. Maybe if I had life woulda been just a little bit easier for you.”  
  
Wynonna shifts in her chair again, not really sure what to say. Conversations like this - ones with emotions and regret, especially with someone as strong-willed as her aunt - just make her uncomfortable, but she can tell by the set of Gus’s expression she needs to say this.  
  
“I get it, Gus,” she tells her. “I’ve always been kind of an asshole, and all the demon talk _did_ sound crazy.” She shrugs. “You did what you had to. For Waverly. That’s all that really matters.”  
  
“You’re my niece too, Wy. You know I’d do anything to protect Waverly, but you need to know I’d do anything to protect you too. I wasn’t there for you like I shoulda been as you were growin’ up, but I’m here for you now. Anyway you need me.”  
  
Wynonna doesn’t really know what to say to that, but luckily it doesn’t matter because Waverly returns just a few seconds later, carrying two mugs of tea in one hand and what Wynonna assumes is a mug of whiskey in the other. Her sister hands that one to her and she takes a big gulp of it, letting the alcohol chase back the light burning she could feel building in her throat as her aunt spoke. Waverly misses the heaviness of the moment and just starts pestering Gus to take her medicine, and Wynonna’s not sure she’s ever been so grateful for her sister’s happy-go-lucky attitude than in that moment. She lets Gus’s promise drop, doesn’t say anything about it, and just listens to her sister and aunt push back and forth.  
  
It’s a simple evening, nothing particularly spectacular happening, but as it progresses a warmth spreads out from Wynonna’s gut, one that’s not entirely caused by the whiskey in her mug.  
  
Maybe twenty-seven won’t be the horrible year she’s been dreading after all. Maybe it isn’t so terrible, being back in Purgatory. Not so bad to be back with her family, at least.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place immediately after season one, episode eight, "Two-Faced Jack."

There is a spring in Waverly’s step that didn’t exist only a couple of hours ago as she walks down the hospital hallways. Hours ago she had to fight for every breath as terror wracked her chest. The bright white lights of the hospital did nothing but make longer shadows, ones that played at the corner of her vision and hid the unknown and promise of loneliness all around her. Now her chest is clear and light, and the shadows are nothing more than those pesky spots that the light just can’t quite reach. The sharp _click_ of her boots against the linoleum tiles is softer now, easily lost beneath the noise that comes with a busy hospital, where earlier the same sharp _clicks_ felt deafening. Instead of wishing she could run away now she’s moving with a purpose, her back straight and a smile on her face.  
  
She stops outside one of the hospital rooms, stealing herself for just a second at the closed door. After debating whether or not she should go in she just shrugs, shifts the bouquet of flowers she’s holding into the crook of her elbow, and then uses her good hand to push the door open.  
  
Officer Haught lays in the bed in the center of the room, her eyes closed. The thin hospital blanket is pulled halfway up her torso and Waverly can see the way it gently rises and falls with the other woman’s steady breaths. Despite the wrap around her wrist or the stitched cut evident on her forehead, Waverly hasn’t ever seen the other woman looking so peaceful and relaxed before, so for a moment she just stands by the door and studies her. She’s been avoiding Nicole and she knows it, all too aware of what the officer wants, but in this instant it feels safe to just look at her. With the other woman asleep she doesn’t feel as flustered or tongue-tied as she usually does around her, and her smile softens a little. Waverly can feel a little tug pull in her chest, one that wants her to go over and sit on the edge of the bed and take Nicole’s hand, run a finger along the line where skin disappears beneath bandage, just to know what it would be like to be that close to the officer. That tug builds into a warmth that spreads throughout her stomach and into her limbs, and she wonders what it would be like to actually hold her hand if just thinking about it makes her react like this.  
  
Waverly may have been standing there for a minute or five - she really doesn’t know - when Nicole begins to stir. Before she even opens her eyes she’s turning towards the door as though she can sense that someone is there, and then she’s blinking them open slowly. The corners of her mouth curl up into a small smile when she sees Waverly, and it’s as though the younger woman can see the shift from unconscious to conscious flash across Nicole’s face. It takes no more than a second for her to fully wake up, and when she does she shoves herself up on the bed, the smile instantly morphing to concern.  
  
“Wynonna?” she just asks, her eyes skimming Waverly’s face and the younger woman lets her smile grow.  
  
“She’s fine,” Waverly says, finally stepping away from the door and further into the room. She winces then, thinking about what she’s heard so far, and amends, “Okay, so maybe ‘fine’ isn’t the right word to use, but they found her and she’s alive. The doctors are checking her out now, but it doesn’t sound like there’s any permanent damage.”  
  
“Thank God,” Nicole lets out in a breath, and then her sharp eyes are back on Waverly. “What about the guy who took her? Jack, or whatever the asshole’s name is?”  
  
The thought of the revenant and what he almost did makes the terror flutter in her stomach once again, but it’s quickly pushed down. “He’s gone. So is his partner.”  
  
“Partner?” Nicole’s eyes widen and Waverly closes the gap between them, hovering near the edge of the bed now but not quite touching it.  
  
“Yeah,” she says. “Dr. Reggie was helping him. It sounds like he was the one who attacked you and took Wynonna.”  
  
Her stomach somersaults at the thought of a human helping a revenant, but the way Nicole’s eyes widen even further and she suddenly gets just a little paler has Waverly ignoring it.  
  
“The coroner?” When Waverly nods her lips purse, and she looks away to glare at the far side of the room. When she speaks next it isn’t to the Earp but to herself, and Waverly can clearly hear the anger in her voice. “I should have seen it…”  
  
“Don’t be silly,” she cuts in, shaking her head. “There’s no way you could have known, he tricked everyone.”  
  
“I should have remembered it was him. I must have seen his face, I should have remembered. I shouldn’t have let him overpower me.”  
  
Nicole’s hands curl into fists against the sheets, and Waverly reacts without thinking. The flowers shift back to the crook of her elbow and she sits on the edge of the bed before reaching out and taking the hand closest to her. Her thumb brushes along Nicole’s knuckles, and the anger on the redhead’s face morphs into surprise as her eyes dart down to where their bodies are connected.  
  
Waverly doesn’t even really register that she’s holding the officer’s hand, too busy giving her a look.  
  
“Stop that,” she says, her voice gentle but firm. “He took you both by surprise, that’s not your fault. He drugged you and beat you and basically left you for dead. It’s because of you Doc and Dolls were even able to find Wynonna in the first place, okay? So stop blaming yourself.”  
  
Golden brown eyes flick up to her own and Waverly wishes she could entirely ignore the way her breath catches in her chest. Nicole studies her as though she can read every thought in Waverly’s mind, and it is as refreshing as it is terrifying. She just holds the officer’s gaze until finally the other woman nods.  
  
“So what happened to them?” she wants to know. The anger is still tucked away in the corners of her mouth and in the hard glint of her eyes. “Did we arrest them?”  
  
Waverly shakes her head. “No, ah, it kinda doesn’t matter at this point. From what Dolls said, it sounds like Jack killed Reggie, and then Wynonna shot Jack. So all the bad guys are dead now.”  
  
“Good,” Nicole murmurs, and Waverly wishes she could somehow wash the anger she can still see in her expression away. She’s used to sweet, cocky Officer Haught, used to the little smiles and smirks she so often has tucked away for the younger Earp; the hard line of her mouth and angry furrow of her forehead is new and Waverly wants to wipe it away. A second later and the anger does leave, quickly replaced by confusion as Nicole is looking at her again. “But why Wynonna? Of everybody in Purgatory, why would they go after someone with a badge? It just doesn’t make sense.”  
  
Waverly gives a little shrug even as she looks away. She plucks distractedly at her sling, careful not to look at the other woman. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just like what Dolls said, serial killers often have a type, and Wynonna filled theirs, I guess.”  
  
“But what type?” Nicole wonders out loud, and Waverly isn’t entirely sure if she’s talking to her or herself since she’s still not looking at her. “Tall, brunette, and fueled by whiskey? Sure she’s beautiful, but there are dozens of other women in Purgatory who fit that description, and all of them have less notoriety than Wynonna. They could have gone after any of them and probably would have had longer with them. Plus they wanted her so badly they didn’t care that they were leaving a witness behind. Why?”  
  
Waverly could answer all of those questions but she doesn’t. There’s no need to drag Nicole into their crazy demonic world, not when just this small brush with it nearly killed her, so she just squeezes her hand a little tighter and meets her eyes again. “Whatever their reasons, it doesn’t matter now. They’re both gone, and both you and Wynonna are safe.” She gives the redhead a warm smile and slowly the corners of Nicole’s mouth curl back up, every trace of anger or confusion melting away for the moment. She holds Waverly’s eyes and Waverly wonders if they’re both feeling this strange fuzzy feeling in their chests or if it’s just her, and then Nicole’s eyes shift to the bouquet still resting against her arm.  
  
“Are those for your sister?”  
  
A giggle bubbles up her throat and past her lips before she can stop it, and Waverly’s grinning even as she shakes her head. “No, Wynonna’s never really been a flower kind of girl. I have a different ‘get-better-soon’ gift for her. These,” she holds them out, “are actually for you. Both to thank you for helping to save my sister and to hopefully help you feel better.”  
  
Nicole’s lips part a little in surprise and then she’s reaching out and taking the bouquet. Waverly pretends not to notice the slight flash of disappointment when the redhead’s hand slips out of hers, but watching Nicole study the flowers more than makes up for it.  
  
“Waverly these… these are beautiful,” she says, and Waverly ducks her head, still smiling. She picked these flowers out carefully for the other woman, spent more time on it than she would want to admit, honestly, but is nevertheless happy with the results. It’s a fairly simple bouquet, really, just three calla lilies - two yellow, and one soft pink - among stocks of white snapdragons and long sprigs of fresh lavender, but the colors all go together beautifully and she knows it smells wonderful. Nicole raises them up now to breathe the beautiful scents in, and Waverly likes the way her eyes close and she smiles as she does so.  
  
“Oh, it was nothing. Just thought you might like them.” Waverly can feel her cheeks growing a little warm and she turns, but only enough so that she can still watch Nicole out of the corner of her eyes. For some reason it’s just as difficult to look at the officer as it is to look away, so she finds herself stuck in this in-between place where she wants to hide and stare at the same time.  
  
Nicole lets out a long breath, her eyes opening again and when they do they immediately find Waverly’s again and the warm fuzziness in the Earp’s stomach only grows in intensity. “I love them, Waverly. Thank you.”  
  
Her blush increases as she shakes her head and gestures with her good hand. “No no, it was nothing, really. I’m just so glad you’re okay.” When Nicole just flashes her a smile Waverly has to look away again, and when she does her eyes drop to the flowers still in her hands. They’re wrapped safely in plastic but she frowns as she realizes what she forgot to include. “Oh fudge nuggets, I should have brought you a vase to put them in. Here, maybe they have some in the gift shop, I’ll go get you one.”  
  
She’s already moving, about to slip off the bed and do exactly that when Nicole’s bandaged hand gently grabs her good wrist, stopping her before she can go anywhere.  
  
“Hey, it’s okay, relax,” the officer tells her gently, amusement coloring her tone. Her eyes are soft when Waverly meets them, and the look makes the brunette’s heartbeat speed up. “Don’t worry about the vase right now, I’ll get one. Just take a few minutes to breathe, okay? You’ve gone through a lot these past couple of days too.”  
  
“Oh no, I’m fine. Really.” She holds out the arm still laying in the sling. “This is nothing, not compared to what you and Wynonna went through.”  
  
Nicole doesn’t let go of her wrist, just lightly rubs her thumb over the back of Waverly’s hand and butterflies swarm in the younger woman’s stomach at the small touch. “Just because someone else is hurt doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to take care of yourself too, Waves. It’s okay to take some time for yourself and do whatever you need to do to process everything and feel better.”  
  
The words needle at something inside Waverly’s chest, but she just gives the redhead a little grin. “I don’t know,” she jokes, “I’m kinda a lot better at taking care of other people than myself.” She shrugs playfully and likes it when the corners of Nicole’s mouth twitch a little.  
  
“Well then, maybe you need someone who will take care of you while you’re taking care of everyone else.” There’s this look, this knowing, coy look in Nicole’s eyes that makes Waverly’s throat go dry and she is intensely aware that the officer is still holding her hand, her thumb still rubbing lightly against her skin. She knows she should pull away, should put some distance between the two of them if she doesn’t want Nicole to get the wrong idea, but she doesn’t. Even with the look Nicole is giving her and the way her insides are reacting to it, this moment between them is peaceful in a way Waverly hasn’t felt in a long time and she craves it. Her wrist is fractured from being magically thrown into a wall and Nicole’s body is completely banged up from her run-in with a psycho coroner, but neither of them can really remember the last time they felt this at ease.  
  
The quiet between them is interrupted when the door opens again and before she’s fully aware of moving Waverly is pulling her hand out of Nicole’s. She turns and finds Sheriff Nedley standing by the door, looking between the two of them.  
  
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, taking his hat off and nodding to them. “Didn’t know anyone else was in here.”  
  
“No worries Sheriff!” Waverly replies brightly, standing back up. “I should probably be going anyway. The doctors are probably done with Wynonna by now and if I don’t hurry she’ll check herself out before anyone can stop her.”  
  
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Nedley mumbles, and then he’s making his way further into the room. When he reaches Waverly he stops and lightly grips her shoulder. “I’m glad they were able to find her though. It’s good to know she’s safe again, or as safe as Wynonna Earp ever is.”  
  
Waverly flashes him a smile. “I’ll tell her you said that, Sheriff.” She looks back and catches Nicole’s eyes again and just for a split second she wishes she could stay but quickly shakes it off. “Thanks again Nicole, for everything, and really, get better soon. I uh.” Waverly stumbles for a second, internally debating over the next piece, and then adds in a rush even as she’s begun to walk away, “I still owe you that coffee.”  
  
Before she’s able to completely turn back around, Waverly catches the way Nicole’s brow twitches and her lips curl up. “You do,” she agrees. “I’m looking forward to it.”  
  
The brunette just nods, unsure what else to say, and then quickly makes her way to the door. As she lets herself out of the room she hears the sheriff say, “So I fed that cat of yours. I think she’s starting to get used to me, only tried to scratch me a few times.”  
  
Nicole’s laughter is the last thing Waverly hears before the door closes behind her and she’s back in the hall again, and the sound worms its way into her chest. She ducks her head, another smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and then she takes off, knowing that she should probably put some distance between herself and Officer Haught. She really hadn’t meant to encourage her, knows she should probably try to discourage her even, but something about the other woman makes Waverly want to be near her. It’s all more than just a little confusing, these feelings she has whenever she’s around the police officer, and she’s always left feeling more unsure after every interaction than she was before them.  
  
Right now though there is one thing she is sure of, and that’s that she needs to find her sister. She saw Wynonna briefly when the doctors were wheeling her into the hospital, and though she didn’t see any obvious signs of injury in that brief moment there was definitely something in her expression that Waverly can’t help but worry about. The doctors had wanted to give her a full check up after everything she’d been through and then Dolls and Nedley had needed to talk to her about Reggie and Jack and the abduction, so Waverly had chosen to quietly slip away until they were all done. That was a while ago though, so she figures it’s time for her to find her sister.  
  
Waverly knows exactly where Wynonna’s room is and finds it quickly, and even before she enters the room she can hear people arguing. The door is open and she hears Dolls even before she slips into the room.  
  
“The doctors think you should stay overnight, Earp. You should listen to them.”  
  
He’s standing by Wynonna near the window, both trying to crowd her and give her some space as she wrestles with a pair of jeans. She’s in a blue hospital gown, but if the way she’s yanking her jeans up her legs is anything to go by, she doesn’t want to be.  
  
“Screw the doctors, like I give a shit what they say,” she grumbles, not even looking up at her boss and partner.  
  
Doc is leaning against the end of the hospital bed Wynonna definitely isn’t in. An unlit cigarette hangs from his lips. “Loathe as I am to be in agreement with the deputy marshall, in this he may be right. If the doctors think you should stay here, it might just be wise to listen to them.”  
  
“Good thing that’s one of the few things I’ve never been accused of then,” Wynonna retorts, finally managing to pull her jeans up and over her hips. “Unless Dr. McDreamy walks through that door in five seconds I’m out, and he died in that stupid car crash.”  
  
Dolls looks up at the ceiling in exasperation as Doc quirks an eyebrow up in confusion, and Waverly claps her good hand over her mouth to hold in a laugh. She shakes her head and then continues forward, smiling at them all.  
  
“Don’t worry guys, I’ve got this. Why don’t you go down to the station and see if there’s anything else Nedley needs from you? I’m sure there’s paperwork to fill out after all this.” She pats Doc’s arm and just flashes her usual smile at Dolls.  
  
Doc’s nose wrinkles but Dolls looks at her and gives a nod, the barest of smiles turning up his lips.  
  
“Not a bad idea,” he says. “There’s always paperwork to do. Let’s go, Doc.” The other man just shakes his head but doesn’t argue, and tips his hat to Waverly as he pushes away from the end of the bed.  
  
“See if you can get her to rest,” he murmurs as he goes by. “She is exhausted, not that she will admit to it.”  
  
“I’ve got it,” she tells him and he gives her his signature smirk and then he’s leaving. Dolls trails after him, nodding to Waverly as he goes and patting her shoulder, and then he closes the door behind them and the Earp sisters are alone.  
  
“I’m not staying,” Wynonna mutters, still standing by the window. Her arms are now crossed and she’s glaring at Waverly, but her little sister can see something in her eyes she’s clearly trying to hide.  
  
Waverly doesn’t respond, just makes her way over to the bed and then sits down. While her sister continues to glare she lays down, resting back against the overstuffed pillows. Once she is settled she looks back over to her sister and pats the spot she’s left beside her on the bed.  
  
“Come on,” she just says and when Wynonna continues to stand stubbornly by the window she rolls her eyes and reaches into the deep pocket of her jacket. She pulls a flask out and wiggles it a little. “If you get in this bed, I’ll let you have this.”  
  
Wynonna hesitates for just another second and then lets out a huff and stomps over, and Waverly tries to pretend not to notice her sister’s slight limp. “Take your shoes off at least, you’re gonna get dirt in my bed,” she grumbles and Waverly grins before following through with the request. Another moment later and the sisters are lying side-by-side. Wynonna grabs the flask from Waverly and quickly twists the top off and then is taking a long gulp from it.  
  
Almost as soon as the liquid hits her tongue, she’s glaring at Waverly.  
  
“What the hell? Is this just water?”  
  
The younger Earp shrugs. “The doctors gave you pain meds, Wynonna. You shouldn’t mix those with alcohol.”  
  
Wynonna’s eyes narrow and then she’s shoving the flask back at her sister. “That was a dirty trick. You know I can’t say no to whiskey.”  
  
“I do,” Waverly agrees, nodding once. “And I promise I really did get you a bottle, but it’s at the homestead and will be ready for you when the doctors release you.”  
  
“I’m _fine_ , Waverly.” Her eyes dart to the flask as her sister returns it to her pocket, and then her arms are crossed back over her front. “And it’s not like I didn’t grow up mixing meds and booze,” she grumbles under her breath. Waverly doesn’t respond but she does bite the inside of her cheek; after managing to get her sister back from a couple of psychos with their shitload of knives the last thing she wants to think about is her sister’s rough childhood. Apparently Wynonna doesn’t want to think about it either because she then goes quiet, and the two just lay on the bed together in silence for a few minutes.  
  
As the silence surrounds them, Waverly carefully tries to eye her sister over, looking for injuries. Other than a bandaged toe that she both wants and really doesn’t want to ask about, no one would ever be able to tell Wynonna had been abducted by a killer coroner and a killer revenant. Sure, there are a few small bruises littering her sister’s arms but it’s no more than your average demon hunt. Wynonna shifts next to her and Waverly’s eyes trail down her arms, and she has to swallow thickly when she notices the raw red marks on her sister’s wrists. Okay, so that’s definitely something different and it makes Waverly’s stomach roll just thinking about how exactly she got those marks.  
  
Staying quiet isn’t always easy for the younger Earp, but right now she manages it, fully aware that she has to let her sister decide when to speak instead of push her into it. It’s a challenge, more than once she has to bite back a question, but finally her waiting pays off.  
  
“He killed Bethany,” Wynonna says suddenly. She’s staring straight ahead and her brow is furrowed, as though she’s trying not to care about the words and failing.  
  
It isn’t what Waverly was expecting, and she frowns. “Bethany?” It takes her a second to put a face to the name, and then she’s remembering a girl who was only a couple of years younger than Wynonna. “Bethany Mullins?”  
  
Wynonna nods, her jaw clenched and lips pursed in a hard line. Waverly bites her lip, thinking about this stranger her heart is suddenly breaking for. “Poor Bethany…”  
  
“I tried to get her to run. Told her to get out of there but she wouldn’t. Couldn’t.”  
  
There’s an underlying current to Wynonna’s tone that makes Waverly look over at her again, this time straight on. Something dark is hidden in her sister’s eyes and there are hard lines along her face Waverly isn’t sure she’s ever really noticed before and it scares her a little. Rather than shrink away she just shifts closer to her sister, and then reaches over with her good arm to take her sister’s hand.  
  
“It wasn’t your fault, Wynonna,” she murmurs. “There was nothing you could do for her.”  
  
Wynonna continues to stare straight ahead, and Waverly watches as tears begin to form in her sister’s eyes. “I couldn’t move my legs,” she whispers, and Waverly hears the crack in her voice. “The bastard took my legs from me. And then Jack killed him and… and I couldn’t move at all. He was going to-” She cuts herself off, gritting her teeth fiercely as she shakes her head.  
  
Bile rises up Waverly’s throat as she listens but she forces herself to swallow it down. The words are bad enough, the images of what her sister went through likely burned into her brain forever, but almost worse than that is the pain and fear she can see on Wynonna’s face. Wynonna has always been the one to bottle it all up, to hide her fears and hurt beneath shots of whiskey or bourbon, so to see it all so plainly etched into her face scares Waverly. Her sister needs her right now though so she pushes the feeling back and just tightens her grip on Wynonna’s hand.  
  
“Shh,” she whispers, leaning over further to bump her head lightly against Wynonna’s. “It’s okay now, you’re safe Wynonna. They’re both gone. You’re safe.”  
  
Wynonna’s eyes clench shut, and the first couple of tears slide down her face as she shakes her head. She turns fully to press her face into her little sister’s shoulder and Waverly carefully tucks a loose strand of hair back behind her ear before resting her head against her sister’s. She can feel the older Earp trembling against her, and Waverly’s heart shatters beneath her sister’s pain.  
  
“I’m broken, Waverly,” she hears Wynonna get out, her voice breaking. Tears press against Waverly’s neck and she turns just enough so that she can wrap her good arm around her sister’s waist.  
  
“No you’re not, Wynonna.” They’re too close, all Waverly can really see is hair, but that doesn’t stop her from responding. “You’re strong, the strongest person I know, and you don’t ever break. Not when Mama left, or Daddy and Willa died, or when they sent you to St. Victoria’s. Nothing’s ever broken you, and nothing ever will.”  
  
More tears slide down Waverly’s neck and she can feel Wynonna shake her head, but her sister doesn’t otherwise respond. She just lays there, pressed against her little sister and silently cries, and Waverly just holds her. She holds Wynonna close, tries to give her every ounce of support possible, and lets her sister cry. It’s terrifying in a way, having Wynonna cry on her like this - she honestly can’t remember the last time she saw her sister cry - but it’s also a little cathartic for both of them. Wynonna, who learned very quickly at far too young an age not to lean on anyone, is leaning on Waverly, and Waverly, who has always just wanted to feel wanted by the most important person in her life, has that very same person trusting her with this vulnerability that she knows Wynonna will try to forget as soon as this moment is over.  
  
No more words are spoken between them, the Earp sisters simply lay there in that hospital bed, holding onto each other. They are each other’s support system, they’ve known that for some time but this moment only strengthens that knowledge, each feeling it in the very core of their being.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter spans across the end of season one, with pieces from episodes ten through thirteen in it.

This whole Lou/Yiska-freaky-cult-in-the-middle-of-the-woods thing is weird, and definitely is not what Wynonna was expecting when she and Dolls decided to come looking for Bobo’s enemy. A little frostbite or a demon fight in the trees she could have handled without batting an eye, but sitting in a tub of steaming water while a couple dozen brainwashed women watch on really isn’t her idea of a good time.  
  
Of all the brainwashed chicks, Eve seems to be nice enough at least, and maybe like she still has at least a little bit of sanity to her. She’s nice enough that Wynonna does feel a little twinge of guilt as she slams the bedpan into the back of Eve’s head, even winces as the other woman crumples to the floor.  
  
“Sorry! I hope that was clean!” she whispers before tossing the bedpan to the floor.  
  
Eve may believe there’s some kind of connection between them, but all Wynonna cares about at the moment is finding Dolls and getting the hell out of dodge. She sprints past the unconscious woman, heart racing as she runs out of the room. 

***

There are hundreds of pounds of fur and rage roaring at her, and Wynonna is shouting at Eve without even really knowing what she’s saying. She’s writhing in the snow, desperately trying to stay out of swiping distance of a terrifying clawed paw and beneath the bear’s roars she can hear Lou’s snowmobile start up. To make everything about a hundred times shittier Peacemaker is laying in the snow somewhere, knocked out of her hands. Her heart is nearly exploding in her chest from fear, and beneath it all the revenant asshole is about to get away.  
  
A gunshot suddenly breaks through the bear’s roars and the rev of the snowmobile and all at once there’s a woman on top of her looking just as surprised as Wynonna feels.  
  
“Thank you,” the woman who was just a bear murmurs after Wynonna rolls her off of her, and then she’s up and running into the trees.  
  
Even in Purgatory a bear turning into a woman is weird, but Wynonna doesn’t watch her go. Instead she’s rolling over to see Lou’s body already almost entirely pulled into the fiery pit that has suddenly appeared in the ground, his screams echoing in the night. Eve is watching, lips parted in shock and panic, and Wynonna’s eyes drop to where Peacemaker hangs in her hand at her side. Her brain is busy short-circuiting, hundreds of disconnected thoughts swirling in her mind as she stares at this woman who is so sure they have some kind of connection.  
  
As Lou fully disappears into the ground, Eve whips around, her terrified gaze going straight to Wynonna. “What the hell was that?”  
  
“The impossible…” Wynonna tells her quietly, still barely being able to believe what she’s seeing. Eve is staring now as though she isn’t sure just what Wynonna is, and Wynonna stares right back in her own disbelief.  
  
It can’t be…

***

Apparently it can be. Dolls hands her the proof, and Wynonna stares at the tablet that holds a truth she never knew she should even be looking for. Eve is staring at her from her bed, obviously afraid, and Wynonna has no idea how to even begin to process their compared DNA so she does what Wynonna Earp does best and turns to liquor. She hands Eve a mug of the bourbon and taps the side with the bottle she’s still holding.  
  
“Welcome home Willa.”

***

“-Yeah well that’s the type of thing that can get Purgatory on the wrong side of the nuke.”  
  
Waverly is in the kitchen where she retreated to only moments ago. Willa, Wynonna, and Dolls are standing in the living room, a verbal showdown flying between Dolls and the newly discovered eldest Earp.  
  
“Okay she didn’t know. I made the same mistake, remember?” Wynonna cuts in, trying to play the peacekeeper. Along with every other strange thing that has taken place over the past couple of days now there’s this, and Waverly just stands back as she watches her normally detached sister trapped between her boss and Willa.  
  
Willa takes a step forward, and though her back is to Waverly she can see the tension in the eldest Earp’s shoulders. “Wynonna, why are you listening to this buzzkill in army boots?”  
  
“Buzzkill?” Dolls growls and Willa doesn’t back down, clearly not in the least bit intimidated by him. “Buzzkill? I’m a U.S. Marshall with Black Badge, you hear me?”  
  
“He’s been helping us,” Wynonna butts in, grabbing Dolls’s arm when he tries to step around her and go to Willa.  
  
The eldest Earp clearly isn’t having any of it. “You mean you’re following his orders, and not your own instincts.”  
  
“We’re a team,” Wynonna tells her, looking from Dolls to Willa, clearly trying to help her understand, but Willa doesn’t want to hear any of it.  
  
“I thought I was the brainwashed one,” she just says, voice low but hard, and Waverly doesn’t miss the look that crosses Wynonna’s face at the accusation. There’s silence for just a second, and then Waverly flinches when Wynonna turns, kicking the small side-table by one of the chairs so that it topples over, its contents flying to the floor. Without another word Wynonna rushes out of the house, slamming the door shut behind her.  
  
“Great,” Waverly hears Dolls mumble, and they are both about to follow her when Willa steps forward, grabbing the deputy marshall’s arm.  
  
“I’m her sister. I got it,” she murmurs, and something about the words makes Waverly’s throat tighten and anxiety build in her stomach as Willa exits behind Wynonna. _I am too_ , she thinks but doesn’t say. She doesn’t know why, but ever since Willa came back she has felt strange, felt almost disconnected to just about everyone, but especially Wynonna. She can’t explain it but it’s there, and it has left her feeling more than a little lost.  
  
She pulls the sleeves of her sweater over her hands, fiddling with them absentmindedly as she just stands in the kitchen. She stares at the door where both of her sisters disappeared, wishing that whatever this weirdness was would just go away. Willa being back in her life should make her happy, and she really honestly is, it’s just also leaving her confused and uncertain. Something feels off, and she just doesn’t know what it is.  
  
After a long moment Dolls turns away from the door, and his eyes turn to her instantly. She looks away from them, just stares at the kitchen table awkwardly, still fidgeting with her sleeves. She can hear him walking towards her, hears the scrape of a chair being pulled away from the table, and then he’s sitting, and finally her eyes flicker to him. His brow raises, his often closed off expression just a little more open than usual.  
  
“Well, you going after them?” he asks, his voice a little too casual. “They might need you.”  
  
She almost argues that they won’t, but the way his lips quirk up into a small smile has her smiling too, though just barely. Waverly waits for just another second but then grabs her coat from where she dropped it on the table and leaves the kitchen, chewing on her lip as she exits the house.  
  
Neither of her sisters are in sight as she steps out onto the porch, but that just means there’s really only one place they could be so she makes her way over to the barn. For no reason she can really understand her heart is racing when she reaches the door and she silently opens it, slipping through the crack. As she steps inside she can hear her sisters talking, and for a split second she thinks she should make some noise, make it obvious she’s there, but then she doesn’t and she is keeping to the shadows, just listening as Willa and Wynonna talk.  
  
“-meltdown in front of your boss,” she hears Wynonna say as she steps inside.  
  
There’s a short silence then and she wonders what she just missed, but then suddenly Willa says, “Gummy bears.”  
  
Waverly frowns, lost, but apparently Wynonna is too.  
  
“Fuzzy peaches.”  
  
“I remember we used to play in here with gummy bears,” Willa continues as though Wynonna didn’t say anything. “We would dance them across the beams and into our mouths.”  
  
Waverly hears Wynonna let out a small, almost inaudible chuckle. “Then you turned eleven and wanted to practice making out with the gummy bears.”  
  
It’s small but Willa laughs and so does Wynonna, and it’s the first time Waverly has heard that in years. “And you promised to never tell anyone that.”  
  
_She didn’t_ , Waverly thinks at the same time Wynonna tells her, “I never did.” It’s a story Waverly never knew about, a moment shared between her big sisters that was never shared with her, and something builds in her gut she doesn’t know how to describe. It’s hurt, definitely, that feeling of being left out that has plagued her all her life, but this time it feels like something more. She doesn’t take the time to analyze it as her sisters’ soft laughter dies off and then Wynonna continues more seriously but still quiet, “Then you went and died on me.”  
  
“We were two peas, you and I,” Willa replies quietly, and Waverly’s throat tightens further. She’d forgotten what this was like, being on the outside and watching her big sisters be together while she was just forgotten. “It’s always been you and I.”  
  
That strikes something in Waverly, and her hands tighten into fists as she bites her tongue. She wants to speak out, to remind them both she exists, but remains quiet in her corner.  
  
“Yeah, I remember,” Wynonna says, and something that feels a little like betrayal stabs Waverly in the chest.  
  
“It can be like it always was,” Willa suggests, “And different too, in all the right ways. You’re not alone anymore.”  
  
_She wasn’t alone_ , Waverly thinks, _I’m here. I’ve always been here._ The words echo inside her head, locked away where they have always been, and she just watches as Wynonna gives Willa a little smile. More than anything she wants Wynonna to speak up, to remember she exists and has been here waiting for her all these years, but instead her sister turns and then she and Willa are hugging and Waverly wishes it didn’t hurt so much. She should be happy for them, should be happy that Willa is back and that Wynonna has her big sister again, but instead she’s left feeling empty. Unimportant.  
  
Willa’s arms remain wrapped around Wynonna’s shoulders and Waverly just turns and exits the barn as silently as she entered it. Clearly her sisters don’t need her when they have each other, so there’s no need for them to know she was ever there. 

***

Calamity Jane bumps her head against Waverly’s calf and the brunette scoots forward on the couch, smiling down at the cat.  
  
“Hi there pretty kitty,” she croons as she scratches the cat under her chin. Calamity Jane’s eyes close as she leans into the motion, soft purring rumbling from her chest. Waverly reaches down and gently picks up the cat, letting out a sharp breath as the movement causes the gunshot wound on her side to flare up.  
  
“I heard that,” she hears Nicole say and looks up to see her girlfriend walking into the living room carrying two cups of tea. The officer’s eyes trail worriedly over Waverly, stopping at her side where a bandage is hidden beneath her shirt. “Easy, Waves.”  
  
Nicole moves over to the couch and takes a seat next to Waverly as the Earp settles Calamity Jane on her lap, once again scratching her beneath her chin. With her free hand she takes the mug Nicole hands to her, flashing her a smile. “Thanks.”  
  
The redhead just nods, now looking down to her cat laying contentedly on her girlfriend’s lap. “Looks like someone has a new favorite,” she jokes, “Guess I’m just old news now.”  
  
Waverly grins, leaning over to press a quick kiss to Calamity Jane’s head. “Oh I don’t think that’s true. I’m sure you’re still her favorite, I’m just a new face with chin scritches.”  
  
Nicole smiles, and Waverly wonders why it took her so long to admit to herself that it’s the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. “It usually takes her a while to warm up to new people,” she says, raising an eyebrow at the cat and then glancing back up. One corner of her mouth quirks up a little higher. “Guess I’m not the only one infatuated with you.”  
  
A blush spreads across Waverly’s cheeks and her head ducks down. She and Nicole have only been dating for a little more than a week so she’s still getting used to this. It’s still a little strange, these looks she gets from the other woman, and the gentle touches. Champ was never soft like this, never had the same look in his eyes when he looked at her and Waverly likes the way it all makes the butterflies flutter a little in her stomach.  
  
“Guess I’m pretty lucky then, huh?” she jokes, glancing over at Nicole who just grins back at her. They share a little look and then Waverly takes a sip from her tea and hums in appreciation. Nicole shifts a little, her knee lightly bumping against Waverly’s leg, and then sips at her own tea.  
  
They sit in comfortable silence for a moment, Calamity Jane’s purring filling the room. Waverly takes in the peace of the moment, closing her eyes and then leaning her head against Nicole’s shoulder. When Nicole turns enough to press her lips against the top of her head, Waverly lets out a contented sigh.  
  
“Comfortable, Waves?” Nicole asks softly, as though she doesn’t actually want to disturb her. “Can I get you a blanket or anything?”  
  
In the week they’ve been dating, Nicole has gone out of her way to make sure Waverly is happy, comfortable, and it makes the brunette’s heart skip a beat each time. In this moment her smile grows and she just turns a little, trying not to disturb the cat in her lap even as she pushes into the crook of her girlfriend’s shoulder a little more fully.  
  
“Mm, don’t you even think of moving,” she murmurs, and then turns a little to look up and flash a smile at the other woman. “This moment is perfect, just as it is.”  
  
She notices the way Nicole’s lips twitch, and then leans into it when her arm wraps around Waverly’s shoulders. Fingers run lightly over her arm and Waverly sinks into the motion, her eyes closing again. Again silence settles over them, and Waverly’s eyes close.  
  
The fingers running gently over her arm don’t stop, just keep moving. Slowly they work their way down her arm until they are running lightly over the crook of her elbow, and Waverly can practically sense what Nicole is thinking about. If she kept moving down they’d slip to her side to hover directly over the bandage beneath her shirt, and she waits to see if they will. They don’t, they stay right on her elbow, but when Waverly opens her eyes again and looks up, Nicole’s brow is just barely furrowed, worry clouding her eyes.  
  
“Hey,” Waverly speaks up, pulling Nicole out of whatever thoughts are swirling through her mind. The redhead looks down at her and Waverly gives her a reassuring smile. “I’m okay, Nicole. Really.”  
  
Nicole’s nose scrunches up, clearly caught. The shoulder Waverly isn’t resting against shrugs. “Yeah, I know you are. It’s just… I still can’t really believe you got shot, Waverly. I just…” She shakes her head, eyes closing, and Waverly wants to kiss away the worry she can still see in her girlfriend’s expression. “It’s just one more horrible and weird thing that’s happened lately.”  
  
“Weird?” Waverly questions, sitting up a little more fully and Nicole’s eyes open, an eyebrow lifting.  
  
“Uh, yeah, don’t you think so? I mean, first that stripper guy attacks you at your party, then Wynonna gets targeted by a couple of serial killer psychos. Then you guys find out that the sister you’ve thought was dead for the past fifteen years is alive and was trapped in a brainwashing cult, and _then_ this group of military mercenaries go after Dolls at the homestead and you get caught in the crossfire.” Nicole shakes her head, frowning. “You have to admit, that’s a lot of really bad things to happen in just a really short amount of time, don’t you think? It’s like…” She trails off and shrugs. “I don’t know. Like something bigger is going on, you know, and this is all just part of it.”  
  
Waverly bites her lip, nearly wincing. She can’t tell Nicole she’s right - Dolls would kill her, plus she wants to keep Nicole out of all this craziness for her own safety - but if she doesn’t steer her away from these thoughts soon she may not have to.  
  
“It is pretty weird, I guess you’re right. Guess I never thought of it all like that.” She shrugs, and then gives her girlfriend a smile. “It’s over now though. Dolls and Wynonna are looking into who hired the mercenaries; they’ll find whoever it was and I’m sure that’ll be it. We can all go back to living life as normal once they do.”  
  
“Mm,” Nicole just hums, nodding once. Waverly isn’t sure whether she actually believes that or not, but she doesn’t question any of it anymore. Instead she begins running her fingers back over Waverly’s arm. “If they hadn’t shot you, I might actually feel sorry for the person who hired them when Wynonna finds them; there’s no way she’s going to let them get away with shooting her little sister.”  
  
Waverly’s lips twitch. As much as getting shot sucked, when Wynonna was next to her on the floor the day before things almost felt normal again, until she had to go after Willa. And then Bobo appeared in their lives again and now her big sisters are hunting for the worst of the revenants with the hope that he might actually have some answers about what happened to Willa, and once again Waverly has been left behind. Sitting here pressed up against her girlfriend almost makes it alright, but Waverly can’t help the sinking feeling that has continued to build in the pit of her stomach the longer Willa has been back.  
  
As though she can read Waverly’s thoughts, Nicole asks haltingly, “And uh, how is Willa doing? That must have been overwhelming, especially for someone just rescued from a cult.”  
  
She doesn’t entirely mean to let it out, but a sarcastic scoff breaks from the back of Waverly’s throat. “Willa’s fine. The guns and everything barely even phased her.” She winces at her own tone, and then adds quickly, “I mean, it doesn’t seem like it, at least. She’s… she’s Willa.”  
  
“Mm,” Nicole just hums, “She certainly does seem… capable, I guess.” Nicole and Willa met last night after the police officer rushed over to the homestead when Waverly called and admitted to getting shot. Willa was more than a little snappy when Nicole tried to help the youngest Earp with her bandage, and now Waverly shifts uncomfortably, sitting up straight again and looking into her mug.  
  
“Yeah, she’s ah, she’s still learning how to interact with people,” she says, false cheer in her voice. “Every day she gets a little better.”  
  
The last part is a blatant lie; it seems like the more Willa remembers about who she is and what happened to her, the harder it is to be around her. Waverly has tried to stay positive, tried to believe that it will all be better once they know how Willa went from the homestead to Lou’s cult in the woods, but it isn’t just the gunshot wound in her side that has left her feeling exhausted.  
  
Beside her, Nicole pulls her arm away from her shoulders but then gently squeezes her knee, and when Waverly glances over she can see the genuine care in her eyes that always seems to be there and the storm of confusion that’s been living in her chest for days settles just a little more. “She does,” she agrees with a nod, “I’m sure soon everything will be just like it was before she was kidnapped.” The corners of her mouth twitch, and she lightly bumps her shoulder against Waverly’s. “All three Earp sisters, together again, probably getting in and out of trouble together, right?”  
  
It’s a pretty thought, and before Willa returned Waverly might have fantasized about it as one of the many “if only”s that cycled through her mind every now and then, but with Willa back she now knows better. The memories she’d forgotten or maybe even purposefully mis-remembered as a child have returned, and there’s no ignoring them anymore so she just shrugs.  
  
“Willa and Wynonna, they’ll get in and out of trouble together.” She tries to keep her tone light and is only so successful. “They’ve always been the Earp dynamic duo.” She takes a sip of her tea, just for something to focus on. “And I’ll, I’ll be here.”  
  
Waverly nearly winces the second the words are out of her mouth, realizing how that sounds. She opens her mouth to correct herself, to assure Nicole that this is where she wants to be, but the other woman speaks up before she can get anything else out, and Waverly is surprised not to hear any hurt in her tone, only care.  
  
“Come on, that’s not true,” she tells her, rubbing her thumb lightly over Waverly’s thigh where her hand still is. “You and Wynonna have been through so much together, she’s not going to leave you behind.”  
  
“She has Willa again,” Waverly replies with a half-hearted shrug. “They were always best friends growing up, I was just the little sister. Now they have each other again and I’m.” She has to bite her lip and swallow thickly, but then her voice doesn’t waver when she continues, “I’m just the annoying little sister again.”  
  
“Hey,” Nicole murmurs, reaching up and gently pressing a couple of fingers beneath her chin. She gently guides Waverly’s head up, making her look at the redhead, and Waverly’s eyes dart across her girlfriend’s face as she talks. “That’s not true, Waverly. You’ll never be _just_ anything, especially not annoying.” She gives the younger woman a small smile. “And sure, I don’t know much about Willa, but I do know a little about Wynonna, and I know there is nothing in the world that she cares about more than you. You will always be the most important thing in her life, and your oldest sister coming back isn’t going to change that.”  
  
Waverly wants to believe that, she really does, but Nicole only knows about such a small piece of who they are. She doesn’t know that Willa and Wynonna are both heirs to a curse, doesn’t understand how that can bring two people together. Her sisters are the demon hunters, are even now doing what Waverly spent so much of her life preparing herself for, but the difference is they both really are heirs and she’s just the little sister, always trying to tag along in the background but getting left behind. She will never have the connection that they have, and it’s a sad truth she’s only just started to come to terms with.  
  
Still, Nicole is smiling at her, looking at her with such tenderness in her eyes, Waverly doesn’t have the heart to argue with her. “You’re probably right,” she says, hoping that the smile she’s giving looks genuine, “I’m probably just overreacting. It’s all just a lot of change, a lot we’re all still trying to figure out. Things’ll go back to normal eventually.”  
  
“They will,” Nicole agrees. Waverly isn’t quite sure that she totally buys it, but if her girlfriend does catch on to her doubts she doesn’t say anything. Instead her lips pull up into more of a smirk, and then she’s plucking the tea from Waverly’s grip and placing both of their mugs down on the floor next to the couch. “For now though, maybe I can help distract you from thoughts of your sisters?” An eyebrow rises, and heat rushes to the pit of Waverly’s stomach just from the smug look alone.  
  
“Hm,” she teases lightly, now also grinning, “I suppose you could at least try.”  
  
There’s a look in those golden brown eyes that tells Waverly she’s going to do more than just try, and the heat only builds that much faster inside her. Nicole’s hand slips beneath Calamity Jane still on Waverly’s lap, and the cat lets out a noise of annoyance when the older woman lifts her.  
  
“Sorry CJ, it’s my turn to love her,” she says as she carefully drops the cat to the floor. Calamity Jane’s tail turns up and twitches at her in protest, and then she’s turning and sauntering away as though she couldn’t care less about being forcefully removed from someone’s lap.  
  
One corner of Waverly’s mouth pulls up a little higher, and she raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to purr too if I give you scratches?”  
  
Nicole lets out a small laugh and shakes her head. “Only if you’re really lucky.” Being even more gentle than usual she helps Waverly lay back, and then she’s hovering on top of her, being careful not to put any pressure on the younger woman’s injured side. Even so she glances down where she knows the wound is, and again Waverly watches as concern briefly flashes across her face. “I’m not hurting you, right? I can move, if I am, and if it starts to hurt just tell me and we can move to a more comfortable position for you or even stop altogether-”  
  
Waverly listens to her girlfriend ramble for a few seconds, finding it unbelievably cute, and then grabs her shirt collar. “Nicole, just kiss me,” she orders, giving a little tug, and she notices the corners of Nicole’s lips twitch before she’s doing just that.  
  
The two bodies sink together, mouths instantly locking, and Waverly’s heart skips many beats. Her family life might be in a turmoil at the moment, she may have lost her best friend to the sister they thought was long dead, but at least she has Nicole. Her girlfriend is here, holding her, showing her how much she cares just by listening, and for now that’s enough. 

***

Willa pulls the trigger, and Tequila Tom gets sucked into a fiery pit, revenant number two to be killed by the eldest Earp sister. Another revenant down should make Wynonna happy, should leave her thrilled to be just one step closer to breaking the curse, but it doesn’t. The curse is one of the last things on her mind now, buried beneath questions about what happened to her sister so long ago, where has she been all this time, what does Bobo have to do with any and all of this? Then there’s the worry over Waverly, thinking about how her baby sister just got shot because someone is after her boss and who that could be. And Doc’s gone, he just took Clootie’s car and left without a word. Sure, what they had was just sex, it’s not like he actually owed her anything, but even something as simple as a goodbye might have been nice.  
  
It all piles up inside her, leaving her unsure what she’s supposed to focus on and what to push away, but in this moment Peacemaker is at the front of her mind. She sits on the homestead’s porch, turning the gun over in her hands, studying it distractedly. Turning it over, Wynonna runs a finger over the inscription of Wyatt’s name.  
  
“You started all this,” she mutters, staring at the letters. “We’ve only gone through all of this because of you.”  
  
It’s true, and it’s a fact she used to hate. Ever since Willa was taken she’s hated her great-great-grandpappy for getting them into this, blamed him for what she thought was the death of her father and sister. When the nightmares would wake her up in a cold sweat and her heart would be beating so fast it felt like it wanted to fly out of her chest, she’d blame the howls and laughter on Wyatt. Good old self-righteous Wyatt Earp who had to be enough of a hero for someone to curse him and his family. If he’d just been a normal dude, went after a few less bad guys, she wouldn’t have had to take up the mantle of Earp heir and asshole demons wouldn’t be coming after her day and night. She’d just be an everyday normal chick, and life would go on.  
  
She used to hate him, yes, but over the last few months everything has changed. She found Peacemaker and the revenants came after her, and as terrifying as it has been at times, it’s also been exhilarating. Dolls found her, and her dickwad boss has become the partner she wouldn’t want to fight without. Doc is - was - all the best kind of trouble, and Wynonna doesn’t want to admit how much his leaving hurts. Despite everything she grew up expecting, she actually likes being the heir, wants nothing more in life than to be the Earp who sends all of the revenant scum back to hell.  
  
Now though. Now Willa is back and Peacemaker knows it. According to the gun there are two heirs, and Wynonna can’t help but wonder how long that will last. She can feel something inside slowly sinking, disappearing maybe, and it’s caused her heart to start racing. Her connection with this stupid gun is something she’s hated the vast majority of her life, but now she can’t help but wonder who she is if she doesn’t have it.  
  
Who is Wynonna Earp if she’s not the Earp heir?  
  
“Wynonna?”  
  
Waverly’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts, and Wynonna looks over her shoulder to see her little sister closing the door behind her, her brow pulled down as she looks at the older Earp. Her coat is in her hands, and Waverly shivers before pulling it on. “What are you doing out here?”  
  
“Nothing, just waiting for Willa.” Wynonna’s eyes dip to the spot beneath her sister’s jacket where she knows the gunshot wound is. “Go back inside Waves, you should be resting.”  
  
Her sister flashes her a smile, brow rising. “All I’ve been doing for the past two days is resting. Between you and Willa and Nicole you’d think I was dying or something.”  
  
Waverly sinks down onto the lip of the porch next to Wynonna, lightly bumping her shoulder against her. Wynonna bumps right back, giving her a look. “You coulda died, Waverly. You got shot, remember?”  
  
Her little sister just shrugs. “It probably won’t be the last time I almost die. It’s starting to feel kinda like a package deal with the whole picking off revenants thing, don’t you think?”  
  
She’s certainly not wrong, and the thought just makes Wynonna clench the gun tighter. If she’s no longer the heir, they won’t need her anymore. Willa’s a better heir, she can already tell, so Wynonna will just go back to being her disappointing self and everyone will continue hunting down the revheads without her, including Waverly. They need her research, there’s no way Dolls could successfully do this without it, so her baby sister will continue to put herself in danger but Wynonna won’t be around anymore to protect her. Willa and Dolls will, she knows that, but the idea of Waverly doing this without Wynonna only makes the gnawing in her stomach increase and her heart start beating faster.  
  
Wynonna has to push all of these thoughts away or else she just might start to breakdown. She grabs Waverly’s head and pulls it towards her, quickly pressing a kiss to her sister’s forehead.  
  
“I don’t care about any package deals or how many revheads are out there, you’re going to be safe, got it? You’re going to find some asshole who isn’t even close to good enough for you, settle down, and live to a ripe old age. Probably have a bunch of asshole kids along the way.”  
  
The corners of Waverly’s mouth twitch and then she nods. “Okay, Wynonna. Whatever you say.”  
  
She’s placating her, Wynonna knows it, but she accepts it for now. Even if she isn’t the heir anymore, Wynonna will figure out a way to keep her baby sister safe; after all, that’s been her job since the day Waverly was born, this whole heir thing only really happened a few months ago. She doesn’t need to think about it to know which job is a thousand times more important.  
  
The front door opening and closing breaks through the silence that has settled between them, and it’s still a little weird for Wynonna to think that there’s a third person living with them now at the homestead. The porch floorboards creak a little as Willa walks towards them, and then Wynonna hears her older sister say, “Well this looks cozy. But come on Wynonna, we need to go.”  
  
Wynonna sighs but nods and begins to stand up, and Waverly looks between them.  
  
“What’s going on?” she wants to know, and Wynonna answers as she jams Peacemaker back into its holster on her side.  
  
“Dolls thinks he can hypnotize Willa, help her remember more of what happened.” She still doesn’t really like the idea, isn’t sure that hypnotizing a brainwashed cult victim is really the best plan, but Willa wants to do it and what Willa wants Willa always gets.  
  
“I’ll come with you,” Waverly says, also standing up, but Willa steps off the porch and passes them, shaking her head.  
  
“No, you stay here,” she orders, giving Waverly a look. “You were shot, you shouldn’t be going anywhere.”  
  
“She’s right, baby girl,” Wynonna agrees, shrugging. She can tell Waverly’s disappointed by the way her shoulders sink, but she knows their older sister is right. “You just keep resting. Willa will be back in a little while.” Now she looks between both of her sisters. “Dolls and I’ll see if we can figure out anymore about Bobo and what role that asshole has in all of this, and while we do you two just stay here.”  
  
For a second it looks like Willa is going to argue but then she bites it back, straightens her shoulders, and just nods. Waverly mirrors it, giving them both a small, half-hearted smile. “Good luck,” she just says, and Wynonna gives her a smile of her own, one that she hopes looks more genuine than it feels.  
  
“Later Waves. Get some rest.” Again Waverly nods, not arguing, and Wynonna turns, leading the way to Gus’s truck that has somehow become her truck along the way. Willa falls into step beside her, and then the two older sisters are climbing into the truck and Waverly stands on the porch and watches them go.  
  
As Wynonna turns on the ignition, she wonders if they’re going about any of this the way they should be. Hypnotizing someone who’s been brainwashed feels like a bad idea, and yet she’s the one taking her sister for exactly that to happen.  
  
If she can’t think of a better plan than that, maybe she deserves to not be the heir anymore. 

***

Willa and Waverly manage to stumble upon the treehouse that was Willa’s prison for fifteen years, and Waverly doesn’t know if she should chalk it up to luck or fate or good old fashioned research, but they find it so what does it really matter? They’re both armed, rifles in hand, but even so Waverly can feel something around them that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. They haven’t seen anyone for miles, she’s sure they haven’t been followed, but even so something about this place just doesn’t feel right.  
  
That feeling doesn’t change as she stands in the middle of the treehouse, eyes sweeping the space around her. Papers are scattered along the floor, a bed is overturned in one corner, and little paper swans litter the room. Faded white curtains hang over the sets of windows and light streams through them as well as through the spaces between the boards of the walls. All in all it’s the kind of space Waverly would have loved to play in when she was young, but the thought of being trapped here for years on end makes the hair on her arms stand up.  
  
She steps over to one of the windows and peaks through the curtains. “The view’s quite pretty,” she says just to break the heavy silence between them, and Willa looks over at her, glaring.  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
“I’m sorry. This is so many different kinds of horrible.” Waverly stuffs her hands nervously in her pockets as she shakes her head. “I was learning how to ride a bike, and playing woodland princess after school, and-and you were…” She trails off, awkwardness settling all around her, Willa’s back to her again. There’s something in her hands but Waverly can’t see what it is and suddenly she feels like she’s intruding, like there’s something here she isn’t supposed to see. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”  
  
Willa doesn’t respond, doesn’t even look at Waverly. For all she knows her sister is ignoring her completely, so Waverly just goes quiet and watches. Willa walks around the small space slowly, and as she moves the younger Earp glances down, sees the paper swan she’s cupping in her hands. One of Willa’s hands reaches out to press against the tree trunk sprouting up through the center of the room and Waverly thinks she sees it tremble. Willa begins to breathe heavily, her eyes closing, and Waverly isn’t sure what to do. Something is happening, she can feel it, but more than ever something doesn’t feel right, feels entirely wrong, and she remains frozen in place. She’s beginning to seriously wish she’d never thought of The Swan Reservoir, that they hadn’t found this place, when Willa gasps, her eyes opening again and Waverly takes a hesitant step forward.  
  
“A woman,” Waverly hears her sister say quietly, “With a pink car.”  
  
It’s not hard to put two and two together and Waverly finds herself clenching her fists in her pockets. “A witch,” she tells her, “Constance Clootie.” It’s probably just a figment of her imagination, but saying the woman’s name makes a phantom pain flare up in her wrist.  
  
“She may have rescued me, but I had no idea what price I would pay.” Willa’s voice is thick, anger and betrayal in it, and Waverly almost takes a step back.  
  
It makes sense now, why Willa couldn’t remember this place, why she didn’t remember them at first. “Your memories,” Waverly murmurs, and then her voice gets a little stronger. “They’re coming back now.”  
  
Willa crouches down to pick up another swan, and Waverly watches, something inside her gut turning. If she was asked to describe it, she couldn’t, but Waverly sees something in her sister shift, something in the way she’s standing, the way she holds herself. The eldest Earp picks herself back up, two swans in her hands now, and her eyes close for just a second as she holds them. When they open again she’s turning towards Waverly, and her lips curl up into possibly the biggest smile the youngest sister has ever seen Willa give her before.  
  
“They are,” Willa whispers, a breath of laughter bubbling out of her. “Oh my god, they are.” She continues to stare at Waverly, still smiling, and then adds haltingly, “There’s so much to do.”  
  
Whatever she’s feeling in her gut grows, and Waverly swallows thickly. Something is wrong, she can see it flash across her sister’s face. Whatever it is doesn’t last for more than even half a second, but Waverly saw it and now there’s no shaking this feeling. Part of her thinks it’s just more of what she’s been feeling ever since Willa came back and she’s been pushed to the side, that her jealousy or whatever it is has just left her seeing things, but she knows it’s more than that. A new unease settles into her gut, burrowing into her being, and Waverly knows there isn’t going to be any way of shaking it.  
  
Willa turns, apparently not waiting for any kind of response, and makes her way over to the door, and Waverly watches her go. The air still feels heavy, pushing down on her, and though she can’t ignore it she at least doesn’t say anything about it. She doesn’t even know what she would say if she tried to bring it up, so for now she keeps her thoughts to herself and just watches her sister carefully.  
  
The sudden ringing of her phone cuts through the heaviness of the moment, and just like that she’s back to reality, pushing whatever just happened to the back of her mind to mull over at another time.

***

“Shit, shit, shit,” Wynonna mutters under her breath as she half runs, half stumbles in the snow. The stupid heels she’s wearing are killing her feet, making her grit her teeth with every step. “Stupid freaking shoes.” If she’d known earlier that everyone in town was actually going to try to kill her tonight, she definitely would have worn flats to Bobo’s stupid party.  
  
A lesson to remember for the next time, assuming she actually manages to survive this.  
  
Finally she sees the homestead ahead of her, and she lets out a breath of relief. She rushes forward, her eyes still constantly scanning around her, on the lookout for the mob looking for her. No joke, she actually had to hide from a group of people with pitchforks and other farming tools in their hands not long after Doc and Dolls threw her out the window. “Like I’m the freaking Frankenstein monster or some shit,” she grumbles as she makes her way towards the house, wincing as one heel yet again sinks into packed snow and she has to yank it out. Seriously, this has all been the worst kind of workout.  
  
There isn’t anybody waiting for her outside the house, so she lets out a breath of relief as she rushes inside, shutting the door behind her. Now that she’s in the safety of her home she stops thinking about herself and instantly lets the thoughts that have been tumbling over and over again in her mind take precedence.  
  
“Willa!” she shouts, continuing further into the house. “Waverly!”  
  
_Please be here_ , she thinks. The second Doc and Dolls got her out of the Wainwright all she could think about was her sisters, and she knows it isn’t the many miles she had to run that has her heart beating like crazy in her chest. The terror is pumping like blood through her veins, her throat relentlessly dry, and all she can do is think of what could happen if anyone gets their hands on either of her sisters.  
  
She’s about to call out again when she nearly stumbles, her feet screaming at her. “Ow ow ow,” she whimpers and then she’s leaning against the wall and yanking the shoes off of her feet. “Shitty shoes!” They clatter to the floor but the second they’re off she’s already forgotten about them.  
  
“Waverly!” she shouts again, hoping that her baby sister will somehow just magically appear before her, entirely unharmed. Wynonna is going to find her, she has to, and if she sees even a single bruise on her when she finally does whoever put it there is going to very quickly regret it. “Guys!”  
  
There’s no answer to any of her calls, so Wynonna rushes to the corner of the house where her bedroom is, already beginning to yank her dress off as she goes. Like hell is she going to go demon hunting or continue to avoid an angry mob in anything other than jeans and her jacket. She’s moving too quickly though, in too much of a rush, and the dress gets caught over her head and she grunts as she tries to get it off.  
  
She doesn’t hear the footsteps, doesn’t know anyone else is in the house until she hears someone speaking, and her stomach drops when she does.  
  
“Now there’s a sight for sore eyes.”  
  
It’s a man’s voice, definitely neither of her sisters, and fear turns into bile as it rushes up the back of her throat. She turns towards the voice as she continues to struggle with the dress, and then feels the back of her legs bump into something. It’s her bed and she falls back on it, hoping that will somehow help the situation she’s in. She can hear the man chuckling but finally she manages to wrestle her way out of the dress and she can see again. Pete is standing in front of her, bloody red claw marks around his eyes and foamy spittle caught in his facial hair. There’s hate in his eyes as he watches her, and Wynonna shrinks back just a little, very aware that she is half naked and that he wants to kill her.  
  
“Pete,” she nearly stammers, and his head tilts slightly to the side.  
  
“You remembered my name this time!” he exclaims softly, and there’s an edge to it that warns Wynonna to stay away so she pushes herself up and begins to back away.  
  
“It’s not all I remember,” she tells him, making sure not to turn her back to him even as she tries to put distance between them, but every step she takes he follows. “I remember in kindergarten, you couldn’t tie your shoes, so I wore velcro sneakers in solidarity.” She’s babbling, hyper-focused on his every movement as she desperately tries to think of a way out of this. As she talks she moves, and suddenly she’s stumbling into a rack of clothes so she grabs the first thing she finds, pulling a sweater away and hugging it to her chest. She smirks then, hoping to throw him off. “I remember in high school-”  
  
“You know what I remember?” he asks, cutting her off. She stumbles back again, and this time nearly trips over something on the floor. Quickly glancing down she finds one of the shitty heels she only took off minutes ago, and quickly hunches down to grab it, never completely taking her eyes off of him. He just continues to follow. “How you broke my heart, and slept with my brother.” Fury flashes across his face that makes her go cold. “Made fun of my mama’s diabetes!”  
  
Wynonna nods. “Yeah, I was messed up,” she agrees, careful to keep her voice low and soothing. One wrong word, one wrong movement and he’ll attack, and she’s hardly in the best position to defend herself. “But I’m not that person anymore.”  
  
“No,” he growls, “you’re just wrong. Still wrong, and that Bobo guy knows it.”  
  
Seeing an opportunity, Wynonna strikes, driving her fist into the side of his face. Pete jerks back but he doesn’t go down, barely even flinches despite the way her knuckles now throb. Looking back at her, he spits out, “You’re a cancer on this town. A cancer that needs to be cut out. And I need that antidote.”  
  
She strikes her fist into his stomach but again he stays upright, just hunches over a little and lets out something between a groan and a grunt. “You’re sick,” she tells him, trying to keep her tone soothing, “but I can make you better. I can stop Bobo.” She shifts her grip on the shoe, holding it up with the heel pointed towards him. With the right strike and enough force, she knows she can use it to take him down, but she raises it slowly. None of this is his fault, and she can’t exactly blame him for hating her after all she’s done to him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she murmurs, desperately hoping he’ll back off, but he just takes another step towards her, nothing in his expression changing.  
  
Before either of them can attack the other, a hand comes down out of nowhere holding a frying pan and smashes it into the back of Pete’s head. He drops and Wynonna’s eyes widen as they follow his body crumpling to the floor.  
  
“See, I don’t have that problem,” Willa says, also looking at Pete’s now unconscious body.  
  
Seeing her sister, relief rushes through Wynonna’s system and she drops both the shoe and the sweater, closing the space between them as she throws her arms around her. “Willa! Oh my god!”  
  
Willa hugs her in return and Wynonna presses her face into the crook of her older sister’s neck before letting go. “Oh, fighting off the local boys in your underwear,” Willa jokes. “Boy, you did grow up.”  
  
“What happened to you?” Wynonna demands, too much adrenaline still rushing through her system to joke.  
  
“I got separated from Waves,” Willa tells her, now a little breathless. She lifts the purse that she’s been holding down by her side and holds it out between them. “There was clawing and kicking and some well-chosen cuss words, and then next thing I know, it was me and an empty…” She trails off, holding the purse open in front of her, and Wynonna can’t believe what she isn’t seeing. “Wynonna,” Willa asks, “where’s Peacemaker?”  
  
“You have got to be shitting me,” Wynonna lets out, running a hand through her hair. As if they don’t already have enough going on, now Peacemaker is missing too. Just great.  
  
Willa gives her a look. “You mean you don’t know where it is?”  
  
“Why would I know?” Wynonna demands. She looks around, sees her bathrobe hanging up on the end of the clothing rack in her bedroom, and goes over to it. She yanks the belt out of the loops, and then goes back to where Pete is on the floor. As she steps around the sweater and shoe she dropped she reaches down and grabs the sweater, quickly slipping it on.  
  
“I don’t know,” Willa says, tugging off her coat and tossing the empty purse on the kitchen table. Wynonna kneels down behind Pete, grabs his arms, and begins using her bathrobe belt to tie his hands together behind his back. The last thing they need right now is for him to wake back up and be mobile enough to try to kill her again.  
  
While she works, Willa watches, still stuck on the missing gun. “Peacemaker was in the purse at the party. You saw it, I saw it. Now gone, vanished.”  
  
“So you lost it,” Wynonna says over her shoulder.  
  
“No,” Willa replies defensively, “Someone took it.”  
  
“Well then we’re really f-” Wynonna begins to admit, but then an idea suddenly pops into her head. Her phone died earlier in the evening and it isn’t exactly like she’s had time to charge it which means she hasn’t been able to try to call anyone, let alone the one person she cares about right now, but now there’s somebody else in the room who just might have her number. She begins patting Pete down, while telling Willa, “Phone. My cell died, but maybe Pete’s…” She finds it stuck in an inside pocket, and manages to pull it out.  
  
“Why aren’t you more freaked out?” Willa wants to know, and Wynonna gives one shoulder a shrug while she hurriedly clicks away on Pete’s phone.  
  
“Well, cause I can’t dial the phone and throw a fit.” She types in Waverly’s number and a contact name pops up at the top of the screen. “Aww, he saved Waverly’s number under ‘Cuties.’”  
  
As she holds the phone up to her ear, she hears Willa ask, “Could a revenant have nabbed it?”  
  
“No,” she answers, now focused on the ringing of the phone, “It fries ‘em if they touch it.” The phone rings and rings and Wynonna lets out a huff. “She’s not answering.”  
  
Before she can dial again, Willa has grabbed the phone out of her hand. “Hey!”  
  
“Look, I know you’re worried about Waverly, but Bobo has something up his sleeve,” Willa presses, anger clear in her tone and in her expression. “I mean, he’s psychic electric koolaided all those meatsticks!” She manages to catch herself, and when she speaks again her anger has subsided, at least a little. “Finding Peacemaker needs to be our priority.”  
  
Wynonna’s eyes dart across Willa’s face, trying to read whatever is there but unable to. “Aren’t you?” she asks.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Worried about Waverly?”  
  
Willa looks taken aback for just a split second, and then she’s standing up just a little taller. “Or course,” she answers, still looking down at where Wynonna is crouched beside Pete.  
  
The two sisters stare at each other for a moment, something strange suspended in the air between them, but then Wynonna shakes it and turns her focus back to Pete. She moves down to his legs, begins to tie his ankles together to further incapacitate him, and can’t entirely believe what she’s hearing when Willa tells her, “Why are you bothering with that? Just shoot him and be done with it.”  
  
Wynonna’s brow furrows and she doesn’t look up at her sister. Something in her gut gives a tug but she ignores it. “Pete’s a dumb dude, but he’s not a revenant. None of them are. I can’t just kill them. Would you?”  
  
“Sometimes being an Earp means making tough decisions to survive,” Willa murmurs behind her, and Wynonna’s brow just furrows further. “For the greater good.”  
  
“Yeah well, if there’s one thing I’ve learned this year, it’s that good is a moving target,” Wynonna tells her just as quietly. Fish’s face flashes before her mind’s eye, along with Leroy’s, Hetty’s, even Doc’s. She knows good and evil isn’t as black and white as most people think.  
  
It’s quiet for a second, and then before Willa can come up with any kind of response, a quiet ringing breaks it. It’s muffled but familiar, and Wynonna glances up at Willa, her sister looking just as thrown by the sound as she is. “I don’t think that thing’s rung for fifteen years,” Wynonna mutters, but then she’s up and Willa is following her into the hallway by the stairs. Across from the stairs is a small table with a basket beneath it, and Wynonna crouches down and begins digging through it as the phone continues to ring. The sound gets louder as she yanks jackets and blankets from the basket, and then the old red phone is free and Wynonna grabs the receiver.  
  
“Hello, woman-you-currently-want-to-kill. Please be Waverly,” she answers with, desperately hoping it’s her little sister on the other end of the line.  
  
“No, but I’ve got her!” she hears a woman’s voice exclaim. “Where are my manners? This is Chrissy Nedley!”  
  
_Baby Nedley_ , Wynonna thinks, both glad to know it’s her and instantly worried. Chrissy is Waverly’s best friend, would normally never be a danger to her sister, but even over the phone she can hear an edge of crazy in the other woman’s voice. “What do you mean, you got her?”  
  
“I found her, and I chloroformed her, and I tied her up,” Chrissy yells into the phone, and Wynonna’s grip on the receiver tightens. “All by myself! Can you come and get her?”  
  
“Yes,” Wynonna promises, but before she even manages to get the one word out Chrissy is talking again.  
  
“Oh and bring your head so I can chop it off to get the antidote for me and my dad. I’m at his office. Bye!”  
  
“Chrissy wait!” Wynonna exclaims but the line has already gone dead. She slams the receiver down, swearing. Who would have expected little Chrissy Nedley to grow up into a chloroforming psycho bitch? Her father will just be so proud. Wynonna wants to freak out, wants to finally just let her fear consume her, but she holds it all in; her baby sister is depending on her now, and there’s no way in hell she’s about to lose Waverly.  
  
“Change of plans,” she says as Willa rounds the corner, already watching her. “Super-fun-time Earp family reunion.” She knows she can’t go rescue Waverly in her underwear, so she hurries towards her room to get dressed and hears Willa start talking again even as she begins to disappear around the corner.  
  
“Wait, I’m just wondering; shouldn’t we go and get-”  
  
Wynonna’s fear flashes into anger, and she turns back around, yelling, “Peacemaker is just a gun!” She stares Willa down, seeing the surprise that flashes across her sister’s eyes. “Waverly is Waverly. And Chrissy sounded like she’s sniffed enough glue to bankrupt a model airplane factory. I’m not waiting to get her. And neither are you. She’s our sister.”  
  
She turns to continue towards her bedroom, and then hears Willa call, “As long as I get to kick someone’s ass.”  
  
Wynonna thinks of Chrissy and what she’s done to Waverly, and then of all the other pissed off people in Purgatory who are after them. “That can be arranged,” she replies, certain they will cross paths with at least one person who wants her dead.  
  
The answer seems to satisfy Willa for now as she goes quiet, and Wynonna begins grabbing at clothes and yanking them on, all while her heart beats crazily in her chest. So help her if Waverly is hurt, Nedley Junior is going to be in for a world of pain…

***

If good is a moving target then that means bad is too, and Wynonna’s entire world goes gray when Willa shoots Nicole. Her big sister, the person she looked up to the most when she was young has joined the dark side, and it sends her world spinning.  
  
Everything is simultaneously spinning and still as she and Willa point their guns at each other. Willa stands on the other side of the arch, outside of the Ghost River Triangle, and now the ground is shaking as menacing howls fill the air around them. Something, some beast or demon or terror is moving in the ground behind Willa, Wynonna can see the way the snow is cracking and shifting, but she doesn’t take her eyes off of her sister. Willa is staring her down, not blinking, not remorseful, no hint of hesitation. Peacemaker’s barrel is pointed directly at her chest, and even as she holds up her own gun Wynonna can see the resolve in her sister’s eyes. She grips her own weapon, her finger hovering over the trigger, but nothing about what’s happening can make her add that last bit of pressure to save herself. Willa is going to kill her, and Wynonna can’t make herself do anything but stand there and wait for it to happen.  
  
Willa pulls the trigger, and Peacemaker just clicks, no bullet leaving the barrel. Wynonna’s stomach drops so far she nearly pukes, but still she doesn’t look away from her sister.  
  
“Willa.” The way her sister’s name comes out is like a cry, a quiet plea, and she can hear her own heartbreak in her voice. Willa keeps pulling the trigger and Peacemaker just keeps clicking.  
  
“What happened?” Willa whispers, the adrenaline building in her voice, and tears begin to build at the back of Wynonna’s eyes.  
  
“You went wrong,” she answers, swallowing thickly around the words. Willa looks from her down to Peacemaker as though she can’t understand what’s happening, and then before either of them can say another word a gunshot rings out and Wynonna jumps. She turns to find Dolls not far behind her, his gun up and pointed at Willa, and when she turns back around Wynonna sees the image that officially breaks her heart.  
  
Willa is doubled over, her hand pressed against her abdomen, and bright red blood has already coated her skin. It seeps out of the wound, spreading across her shirt, and Wynonna has to bite the inside of her cheek so hard she’s bleeding too to keep in the cry building in her chest.  
  
The ground shakes more, the roaring behind Willa grows louder, and suddenly something bursts through the snow, wrapping itself around the eldest Earp. Willa stares into Wynonna’s eyes as what looks like a giant black tentacle lifts her into the air and Wynonna gasps, not entirely able to believe what she’s seeing.  
  
“See Wynonna?” Willa murmurs suddenly, a strange absence of fear or pain in her voice. “You can never really go home again.”  
  
Wynonna’s mouth drops open, a response dying on her tongue, and then the creature yanks Willa backwards and now her sister is screaming. Willa’s screams fill the air, fill Wynonna’s ears, and suddenly they’ve become an echo of the same screams that have haunted her since her sister was stolen through the homestead window. Again the eldest Earp is being taken, stolen from her family, from everything that could have been and should have been, but this time Wynonna doesn’t freeze.  
  
As Willa’s screams and the creature’s roars fill the air, Wynonna dashes forward, her focus on nothing but Peacemaker lying in the snow.  
  
“Wynonna!”  
  
Doc is screaming behind her and then the banging of his guns add to the cacophony all around them, but Wynonna doesn’t look at anything other than Willa as she raises Peacemaker out in front of her. The tears fill her eyes as she meets Willa’s, and she could swear her sister nods, that she gives her permission, and that only makes the intense burning in her throat grow.  
  
Out of nowhere Peacemaker’s barrel begins to glow an iridescent blue as Wynonna caulks the hammer.  
  
“Make your peace.”  
  
The words are rough, almost impossible to get out, but Wynonna does even as she continues to look nowhere but at her sister. Willa just stares back, silent now, resignation in her eyes, and Wynonna’s lips purse together as her finger hovers over the trigger. She adds just the smallest bit of pressure and the gun goes off, its bullet hitting Willa squarely in the forehead. Her entire body jerks as she lets out a gasp, one that Wynonna lets out at the exact same moment.  
  
Wynonna’s heart beats once.  
  
Willa’s doesn’t.  
  
Wynonna’s heart beats again while Willa’s entire body goes limp. She’s gone, and this time there’s no coming back. The pieces of Wynonna’s shattered heart squeeze but the tears don’t fall.  
The creature roars, apparently furious at Wynonna for stealing its prize, and one giant tentacle darts towards her. The Earp heir - because she is the Earp heir, she knows that now without a doubt - turns and runs, runs with her heart in her lungs back towards the Ghost River Triangle.  
  
Doc and Dolls both shoot, the _crack_ of their gunshots echoing in the air as Wynonna’s feet beat against the hard ground. 

***

It’s an hour later and Bobo is dead and Lucado has taken Dolls. There’s a storm of emotions inside of Wynonna, all moving too quickly - growing and shrinking and growing again - that all she can do is stand in place and stare at the archway where she shot her sister.  
  
“Wynonna.”  
  
Waverly’s voice is quiet, gentle, and Wynonna feels her hand rest carefully on her shoulder. It’s too much, all of it, everything that happened is too much, and Wynonna sinks back against the body behind her.  
  
“I-I shot her.” Her voice cracks, breaks, and a tear slips down her cheek. Waverly’s arms circle around her and pull her closer, and then her chin is resting against Wynonna’s shoulder.  
  
“It’s okay, Wynonna,” Waverly whispers, “it’s okay. You had to. She wasn’t our Willa.”  
  
“Part of her was,” Wynonna tells her, voice just as quiet, “Part of her always will be.” A second tear leaks free.  
  
Waverly doesn’t say anything to that, just remains still for a moment and then nods, and her grip around Wynonna gets tighter. Wynonna’s eyes close, tries to focus on nothing but Waverly, fully aware that the only thing holding her together in this moment is her little sister.  
  
Maybe Waverly is the only thing that has ever managed to hold her together.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up immediately after episode 2.08, "No Future in the Past."

_I promise I will never hurt you. No matter what form I take. I swear it._  
  
_My angel._  
  
Robert Svane’s words echo inside Wynonna’s head and she closes her eyes, clenches them shut tight. The fact that the biggest, baddest revenant she’s faced yet was one of Wyatt’s most loyal followers is still nearly impossible for her to believe, even if she did see it with her own eyes. Hell and the Earp curse turned Robert into Bobo, made a truly good man - someone who was certainly better than Wynonna is - into a monster, and Wynonna doesn’t know what to make of it all. Wyatt shot a good man to get to Sheriff Clootie and in doing so damned all of them.  
  
_My angel._ Wyatt’s descendants.  
  
A heavy pit forms in Wynonna’s stomach, and for the first time in weeks it has nothing to do with the baby growing in her gut or the stupid Widows with the nasty paralyzing breath. Bobo’s - Robert’s - voice echoes again, and Waverly’s face flashes in her mind. Wynonna grips her pillow so hard the fabric nearly rips and then pushes her face further into it.  
  
She’s been so lost, trying to figure out who she really is lately. Wynonna hates herself for not noticing sooner, has mentally berated herself numerous times ever since Waverly finally told her what Bobo said to her in Willa’s treehouse. Before today Wynonna thought it was crazy, a lie Bobo told her sister just to get under her skin, but now she isn’t so sure. She can remember Mama being pregnant, remembers the day she and Daddy brought the new baby home, but now that she’s actually thinking about it she can also remember how he and Willa left immediately after. Did Daddy even look at her? Hold her? That much Wynonna can’t remember, and it makes her gut continue to sink.  
  
Robert Svane was a good man. Bobo wasn’t, but maybe some of that goodness still existed in him twenty-two years ago. The idea of Mama actually sleeping with him gives Wynonna the heebie jeebies, but she would be the first person to admit that revenants don’t always act like the demons they truly are - her own baby may just be proof enough of that. Maybe there was enough of Robert Svane left in him back then to fool her mother.  
  
It all makes more sense than Wynonna wants to admit. It would explain why Bobo acted as Waverly’s “imaginary” friend when she was little. Why none of the seven went anywhere near her when they attacked the homestead. Why despite everything he did, Bobo never actually tried to hurt Waverly. Robert Svane was a good man, and Wynonna has never met anyone even close to as good as Waverly; so what if that goodness was passed down to his daughter?  
  
Wynonna must make some kind of noise at the thought, because an arm gently slides over her extended stomach, a large hand now resting just above her belly button.  
  
“Shh,” Dolls murmurs gently against her neck, “You’re safe now. It’s over.”  
  
It isn’t; the vision quest that very nearly killed - hell, did kill her - left her with about as many questions as she got answers to, but she doesn’t say as much. For the time being she pushes all of those questions to the back of her mind to stew over later, and pushes back lightly against the solid body behind her. Even she isn’t sure how long she’s wanted to be this close to her boss and partner so she’s going to enjoy every second of it she can get. Her life will be just as complicated when she gets out of bed, she might as well enjoy the moment.  
  
“Hmm,” she just lets out, turning her head. It’s too much energy to turn her entire body - her stomach looks like she’s growing at least one watermelon in it - so when he snuggles up even closer to her she smiles. “Who woulda thought you were a cuddle whore?” she jokes, cocking an eyebrow at him, and he just gives her a look, the corners of his mouth twitching.  
  
“Tell anyone and I’ll make you disappear,” he quips, and Wynonna isn’t sure whether he’s aware that his thumb is rubbing lightly against her stomach or not. She doesn’t say anything in case he isn’t, since it actually feels pretty good.  
  
“Huh, I’ve always enjoyed a good magic show.” He lets out a low chuckle, and then his lips are pressing against the side of her neck and Wynonna’s eyes close again, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight shiver she feels down her spine. Damn he’s good at that…  
  
The two lie there for a while longer, both perfectly content with their bodies pressed up against each other. They don’t talk, don’t need to, and Wynonna is so comfortable that she’s nearly asleep when she hears a car pull up the long homestead driveway. Pretty sure she knows who it is she groans but pulls away and tries not to smile at the sound of protest Dolls makes. She fails.  
  
Unfortunately actually getting out of bed proves to be a more difficult feat than it used to be. Wynonna manages to sit up on her own but that’s it, can’t rock herself up onto her feet no matter how hard she tries, and her smile turns to a glare when Dolls lets out another chuckle. He’s smart enough not to say anything and just gets up and takes her hands, helping to pull her up. As soon as she’s steady on her feet Wynonna gives him a little shove and the lizard man doesn’t so much as budge, just raises a single eyebrow at her. It’s sexy as hell and for a second she considers dragging him back down into her bed with her, but then the front door opens and she pushes the thought away.  
  
“Wynonna!”  
  
Waverly’s voice is frantic as she shouts her sister’s name and it’s enough to banish the last traces of her horniness away. “Yo Waves, it’s okay, I’m fine,” she calls back as she leaves her corner of the house, and Waverly finds her almost as soon as she’s stepped into the kitchen. She can see the fear and relief on her sister’s face, and only lets out a small “Oof” when Waverly throws her arms around her neck and presses as close to her as her protruding stomach will allow.  
  
“Oh my God, Wynonna!” Waverly cries, squeezing her tightly. “What happened?” Then, before the older Earp has a chance to answer, Waverly pulls away just long enough to punch her in the arm and shoot a glare at her. “You can’t just text me ‘Died in a church fire. OK though’!”  
  
“Oww,” Wynonna mutters, rubbing at her arm despite the fact the hit didn’t hurt at all. “It’s no big deal, baby girl, I was only dead for like, seventy-seven seconds.” She gives a shrug as though it really is no big deal, and for a second she swears Waverly’s eyes are going to pop out of her head.  
  
“What do you _mean_ you were only dead for seventy-seven seconds! How did you end up dead at all?”  
  
“Juan Carlo sent her on a vision quest,” Dolls answers for her, now standing on the other side of the kitchen and leaning back against one of the counters. His arms are folded in front of him, and his look is somehow both amused and worried at the same time. “While her mind was gone the Widows showed up and when they couldn’t get to her decided to set the church she was in on fire.”  
  
“Hey, you were in the church too by the time there was fire.” Wynonna shoots him a look and he just shrugs.  
  
“Yeah, but I’m not the one who technically died, remember?”  
  
Before she can respond, Waverly’s arms wrap around her again, holding her like a vice. It takes her a second to register it, but she can feel her sister trembling. “Wynonna…”  
  
“Hey, no, seriously, I’m okay Waverly. Really.” She hugs her sister back as though the returned pressure might help convince her that it’s true and that she’s fine, and Waverly clings to her.  
  
Dolls stands up straight again, nodding towards them. “I’ll head out, give you two some time together.” Waverly doesn’t move or say anything but Wynonna gives him a small smile and nods, which he returns. “Take it easy tonight, Earp. I’ll see you at the office in the morning.”  
  
“Dude, I almost died, I can’t get a morning off?” she complains, rolling her eyes, and his grin just grows.  
  
“Tell you what, I’ll pick up the donuts in the morning and make sure to get your favorites. Good enough?” Wynonna considers it for a second and then nods.  
  
“I’ll take it.”  
  
With that Dolls shakes his head, still grinning, and then exits the kitchen and lets himself out of the house. Waverly doesn’t loosen her grip during the entire exchange, and only pulls away slightly when the door closes behind him. Her eyes dart across Wynonna’s face as though looking for any trace of injury and Wynonna just rolls her eyes again as one corner of her mouth tugs up.  
  
“I mean it, Wave, I’m fine. Good as new, even.” She wiggles her eyebrows at the joke, but Waverly doesn’t look at all amused.  
  
“That isn’t funny, Nonna. Are you sure you’re okay? What about the baby? Maybe you should be in the hospital, at least for tonight.”  
  
Wynonna shakes her head even as she grips her sister’s arms reassuringly. “The paramedics checked me out once I started breathing again and decided I was fine. And the little twerp’s kicked my kidneys enough since then I’m pretty sure it’s okay too. So you really don’t have to worry.”  
  
Waverly doesn’t look all that convinced, but she apparently decides not to push it. She releases her tight grip on her sister but doesn’t take more than a step away. “If you’re sure…” She trails off, still looking Wynonna over, and then tilts her head. “A vision quest, huh? What’d you see?”  
  
Pressure builds for a moment in her chest, but Wynonna pretends not to notice it. “How the Widows got locked up in their box,” she answers, and Waverly’s eyes widen. “And Constance Clootie, get this, their other sister-wife who turned on them and used her magic to make all the seals. And that when the third seal is broken, it’ll bring their demon husband back to life who it turns out is the one who created the stupid Earp curse in the first place.”  
  
She purposefully doesn’t mention anything about Robert Svane and his relationship with Wyatt or Doc or possibly the younger Earp. From the look on Waverly’s face, that’s all enough to take in for the moment, and Wynonna needs to finish processing that before she’s ready to share.  
  
Waverly stares at her for a second, her mouth hanging open. “That’s… That’s just…” Apparently she doesn’t know just what it is because she can’t finish her sentence, but even so Wynonna nods.  
  
“Yup. It’s just.” She shifts, groaning as her ankles complain about the added weight they’re now expected to support, and Waverly glances down and then up again.  
  
“Come on,” she says, gently taking her sister’s arm, “you should be sitting down, you and the baby have been through a lot today, you should be taking it easy.” Wynonna doesn’t argue and lets her sister lead her into the living room and to the chair that’s become hers, especially since she added the two extra throw pillows to it. Waverly helps her to sit down, and Wynonna lets out a groan of relief as she sinks back, grabbing one of the pillows and hugging it against her chest.  
  
“Sorry to miss nacho night,” she tells Waverly once she’s comfortable, and something flashes across her sister’s face before she turns away quickly.  
  
“That’s alright, though it was kind of a surprise baby shower.” Waverly moves over and flops down on the couch, that look still on her face. “Rosie’s idea.”  
  
“‘Rosie?’” Wynonna repeats, raising an eyebrow and pursing her lips. Considering she just spent about an hour spooning with Dolls in her bed she probably doesn’t have the right to indulge in the little bit of jealousy that suddenly flares up at the thought of Doc’s latest special friend, but she can’t help it.  
  
Waverly shrugs. “Rosita’s actually really nice, Wynonna,” she tells her, and then mutters, “A lot nicer than _some_ people right now…”  
  
Even Wynonna doesn’t miss the edge in her voice, but she decides not to ask about it, though she does study Waverly a little more closely. “Well then sorry I missed ‘Rosie’s’ surprise baby shower. Though if there weren’t really nachos I’m not as sorry as I was a minute ago.”  
  
That makes the corners of Waverly’s lips twitch and Wynonna returns it with a lazy smile of her own. “There really was nachos,” she promises her, “I know better than to promise you nachos and not deliver.”  
  
“You better,” her sister jokes, and they share a smile before quiet settles over the room. Each sister studies the other, Waverly obviously still not convinced that Wynonna is really fine, Wynonna trying to figure out whatever it is that Waverly is trying to hide from her.  
  
Wynonna gets an answer of sorts only minutes later when they hear another car pull up to the house. Waverly is already up and out of her seat by the time they hear the engine shut off, and she makes her way to the front door while the elder Earp remains where she is, too tired to even attempt at getting up out of her chair. She watches her sister instead and frowns when she catches the way Waverly’s expression hardens a little when she catches a glance of who it is out the window. Seconds later there are footsteps climbing up on the porch and before whoever is outside can knock Waverly opens the door, standing in the doorway.  
  
“What do you want, Nicole?” she demands, and Wynonna’s brow furrows further at her tone. She can just barely see the redhead standing in front of her sister, and thinks she sees the cop shift nervously.  
  
“Nedley told me about your sister,” Wynonna hears Haught answer, and the other woman’s voice is quieter than she might have expected. “I just wanted to make sure you’re both okay.”  
  
“We’re both fine,” Waverly tells her, voice hard, and Wynonna watches her sister closely. Her posture is stiff, and her arm is still out, holding the door as though she’s blocking Nicole’s way into the house. “You didn’t need to come.”  
  
“I know, I just wanted to. Waverly please, just let me exp-”  
  
“Whatever, Nicole.” Waverly cuts her off and then steps back, quickly turning her back on her girlfriend. She leaves the door hanging open and makes her way back into the living room, arms crossing over her chest as she leans against the wall.  
  
Apparently Haught decides to take the fact that the door wasn’t slammed shut in her face as an invitation to come in. She quietly closes the door behind her, and then shuffles into the room, glancing at her girlfriend out of the corner of her eye but not moving over to her. If she was a dog her tail would be tucked up between her legs, and Wynonna glances quickly between the two women.  
  
With her girlfriend completely ignoring her, Haught shifts her attention to Wynonna in her chair. “How are you doing, Wynonna? The sheriff said you were caught in a fire?”  
  
Wynonna shrugs one shoulder, giving the officer a lazy smirk. “Eh, I’ve had worse days. Shoulda seen me once when I was seventeen and I thought I’d lost my leather jacket. Now that was traumatizing, let me tell you.”  
  
She doesn’t get so much as a flick of a smile from either of them: both women are too busy purposefully not looking at the other one. “Well you look good, at least,” Haught tells her. “Glad it wasn’t that bad.”  
  
“She was caught in a _burning building_ , Nicole,” Waverly snaps, shooting a sharp glare over at her. “I think that counts as being ‘that bad.’”  
  
“Right, yeah, of course. That’s not what I meant. I just meant-” Haught looks around, as though searching for her words, and then runs a hand through her hair. Wynonna can practically see the stress pouring off of her, and for a second she thinks she probably had it better with the burning building than Nicole’s having with Waverly’s cold shoulder. The redhead lets out a deep sigh. “I just meant I’m glad you’re okay, Wynonna.”  
  
“Mm, yeah, never better,” Wynonna tells her with a casual flick of her hand. Once again her eyes dart between the two of them, easily catching the way they stand closed off from each other. Waverly has done nothing but glare at her girlfriend since she arrived when normally she’s all heart eyes when Nicole’s in the room, and Nicole’s arms are crossed over her stomach, her hands clasping at her sides. There’s obviously something going on between them, but at the moment Wynonna can’t worry about that, seeing an opportunity ripe for the taking. She smiles, tilting her head, and turns her attention on her sister.  
  
“Hey Waves,” she says, and her sister quickly looks over at her, almost too eager - which for Waverly is seriously saying something. “Could you get me my yogurt? I’ve got a craving for the ‘gurt like nobody’s business.” She scrunches up her nose, hoping to look perfectly pitiable. “I’d get it myself, but.” She gestures to her protruding stomach which only seems to be doubling in size every day. Seriously, this kid better not be as big as it seems or there’s no way she’s pushing it out of her hooha.  
  
“Sure,” Waverly agrees, and then quickly heads into the kitchen. From her spot in the chair Wynonna can still see her, so she watches as her sister opens the refrigerator to rummage through it. She spends a few seconds moving things around and searching, but finally she pulls back, frowning as she looks back into the living room. “I don’t see any yogurt.”  
  
Wynonna is very aware there isn’t any, but she scowls as though she’s surprised. “Dammit, I told Doc to pick some up for me. You sure it’s not back behind anything?” Waverly takes another quick look, moves the milk carton Wynonna actually didn’t know they had, but then shakes her head as she puts it back.  
  
“Nope, not in here.”  
  
“I’m gonna kick Doc’s ass,” she growls, grabbing onto the arms of her chair and starting to push herself up. She wishes she could say her struggle is all for show, but standing up has never been so hard in her life, and that includes every time she was so drunk she couldn’t see straight. “He knows I’m always craving it. How the hell could he forget it? Asshole.”  
  
Waverly hurries back into the room faster than she can stand, and then her sister’s hand is on her shoulder, lightly pressing her back into the chair.  
  
“It’s okay Wynonna, I can run out and get you some.” She flashes her sister a smile. “Anything to keep Doc alive another day. He at least should survive long enough to meet the baby, don’t ya think?”  
  
“Hm,” Wynonna just grunts and falls back into the chair. Seriously, sitting has never been better, other than the fact she can’t ever find a perfectly comfortable position. It’s better than standing though. “Dude’ll be lucky if he makes it to then.”  
  
Waverly’s still smiling as she shakes her head, but then she turns towards the door and the smile disappears when her eyes flicker over to Nicole. She grabs her coat from its hook on the wall, and her voice is somehow colder when she says, “You should probably go home, Nicole. I don’t need help going to the store.”  
  
Hurt flashes against the redhead’s face, but she nods. “Yeah, sure, whatever you want Waverly.”  
  
“Actually I could use your help too, Haught,” Wynonna speaks up before she can turn around. They both look at her, Nicole curiously and Waverly a little hurt, and Wynonna just flashes them her signature smirk. “Got some stuff I crammed on the top shelf in the bathroom I want, but I can’t reach that high with this in the way.” Again, she gestures to her stomach. There are a lot of things about pregnancy she’s not going to miss, but the easy excuse for almost anything she will be sad to lose.  
  
“Sure, I can help you Wynonna,” Nicole agrees and Waverly lifts her head a little higher and then gives her sister a forced smile.  
  
“I’ll be back in a little while. Text me if you think of anything else you need.”  
  
“Will do.” Wynonna gives her a sarcastic salute and Waverly’s smile melts into something more genuine and then she’s out the door, yanking it closed behind her but not before shooting yet another glare at her girlfriend. She leaves without so much as a goodbye to the redhead, and Wynonna raises an eyebrow at it.  
  
Nicole stares at the closed door for a second but Wynonna can still see the hurt that flashes briefly across her face at the hasty exit. She shifts awkwardly where she stands and then turns and takes a couple of steps further into the room. “So what is it you want me to pull down for you?” she asks, turning her attention back to the eldest Earp.  
  
“Pffft, like I need help with that.” Wynonna rolls her eyes. “I’d just make Waverly stand on a chair if I needed anything higher than I can reach.” Her demeanor shifts, and suddenly she’s all seriousness and she notices Nicole’s brow shoot up in surprise. She points to the couch. “Sit, Haught. You and me need to talk.”  
  
Nicole studies her for a second and then does as she’s told, and Wynonna fixes her with a stare.  
  
“So. What’s going on with you and Waverly?”  
  
Haught looks away. She grips her pant legs and then immediately lets go. “It’s not.” She pauses, clenches her jaw, and then closes her eyes. When they open again, she’s meeting Wynonna’s, and the brunette can see a sense of loss, of guilt weighing heavily in the look. “I did something stupid, that’s it. And she just… hasn’t forgiven me yet.”  
  
One of Wynonna’s eyebrows ticks up. “Kay. So you’re gonna fix it.”  
  
The other woman sighs, her eyes closing again, and she leans forward, her elbows going to her knees and her forehead pressing into her palms before she rubs at her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m gonna try but she won’t let me-”  
  
“No.” Wynonna cuts her off, and the hard tone of her voice has Nicole’s head picking right back up, surprise now pulling at her expression. Wynonna’s brow is furrowed, and she meets the officer’s eyes without mercy. “No. There is no ‘try’ when it comes to Waverly. You either do or you get out of her life, the hell out of her way. Got it?” She’s holding the redhead’s focus, refusing to look away. “And take it from someone who took herself out of Waverly’s life for a while, it sucks ass, so you better figure it out. Got it Haught?”  
  
“I-” The other woman cuts herself off, her hands curling up into fists where they’ve fallen against her knees. She nods, resolve settling across her face. “Yeah. Yeah, I got it. I’m going to fix it.”  
  
“Good,” Wynonna says with a nod, “Now that we got that out of the way, I need to ask you a favor, and you can’t tell my sister.”  
  
Nicole winces. “I don’t know if I can make that promise. She’s already mad at me for keeping something from her, I don’t know if I can lie to her again.”  
  
Wynonna clenches her jaw, eyes narrowing, and studies her for a moment. “Okay, I’m gonna let that slide because I’m asking for your help. Consider this your get-out-of-jail-free card.” One hand moves to the arm of her chair, fingers digging lightly into the fabric, while the other shifts over the swell of her stomach. She glances down at it, wonders for the thousandth time about the life growing inside of her, and then glances back up at Haught. “I don’t want you to lie to Waverly, but this is my decision to tell her about, not yours. It’s me that’s gonna be breaking her heart when she finds out.”  
  
Nicole’s head tilts slightly to the side, an eyebrow raising, and Wynonna’s eyes drop back down to her stomach. Her hand rubs lightly over the swell, and she clenches her jaw again before taking a silent breath to steady herself. “I need your help to get this baby out of Purgatory.”  
  
It’s obvious from the way the officer’s eyebrows shoot up, whatever she might have been expecting, it wasn’t that.  
  
“Wait, what?” she asks, shaking her head, “You want to get rid of the baby?”  
  
“I have to, Haught,” Wynonna replies, her voice low, hard, but she can feel the loss already beginning to burn at the back of her throat. “It’s the only way to keep it safe.”  
  
“Wynonna…” The other woman’s voice is quiet, her expression open, and the Earp shakes her head again at the pity she can see crossing it.  
  
“No, Nicole, I have to do this. If this baby is going to have any kind of chance at a normal life then I can’t be its mother, and it has to get as far away from Purgatory as possible. Otherwise it’s life is going to be just as fucked as mine was.”  
  
It wasn’t her first thought when she looked at the pee stick and saw the positive result. In fact, the idea didn’t fully form until recently, and before then she had actually started to think maybe she could do it. Maybe she could be a mother, maybe having a baby wouldn’t be such a terrible thing. But then Jonas found out and a fear like Wynonna had never felt before rippled through her gut at just the thought of a revenant knowing she was pregnant. Now it feels like all she can think about, and that fear has been slowly filling her up ever since that moment. Compared to it, Bobo or being burned alive during a vision quest is nothing. She needs to get her baby out of Purgatory, but to do that she is going to need help.  
  
Nicole is still staring at her, her lips parted and mouth hanging open. She wants to say no, wants to argue, Wynonna can see it, so she continues to hold the other woman’s gaze.  
  
“I’ve already talked to Gus about it,” she tells her. “She’s working on finding a place to go that’s far, far away from Purgatory, some place no one looking for it will ever find them.” Wynonna rubs her hand over her stomach again, swallowing down the catch she can feel building in her throat. “I know Gus’ll take care of it, will keep it safe, but that’s only if we can get it out of Purgatory, and there’s no way I’ll be able to get out; the revenants and all those other assholes Willa let in when she opened the gate won’t let me. You though, you can do it.”  
  
Sending Nicole and Waverly off with the baby had been her first idea. She knows there isn’t anyone who would care more for her baby than her sister, and with Nicole beside them Wynonna wouldn’t need to worry about either of them. All three of them would be safe from the Earp curse bullshit, but Wynonna knows Waverly would never leave her, not even for the baby, not if there was any other way. Now with the question of Waverly’s parentage stuck in the back of her mind, Wynonna isn’t even sure if her sister could leave the Triangle if she did agree, so she stares down Nicole, desperate to make this plan work. When the redhead just continues to stare at her, Wynonna lets her walls fall down just a little, lets the other woman see her fear. “Please, Haught.”  
  
That little bit of vulnerability she shows does the trick. Haught’s brow furrows, her expression settling into a firm resolve, and she nods, once. “Okay. I’ll help you, Wynonna. I swear to you I will get your baby out of Purgatory safely. And I’ll-” She swallows, but the resolve doesn’t shift. “I won’t tell Waverly. Not until you’re ready to, at least.”  
  
“Thank you,” Wynonna whispers, closing her eyes. She grips lightly at her shirt, and then forces herself to relax, at least a little. Eyes opening again, she looks back at the other woman, telling her, “Gus and I are putting a plan into place. I’ll let you know what it is once everything is settled. Until then just, just keep this between us.”  
  
“I will. I promise.” The two women hold each other’s gaze for what feels like a long, drawn out minute, and then Wynonna lets out a sigh.  
  
“You should probably go,” she says, jerking her head towards the door. “Waverly’ll be pissed if you’re still here when she gets back.”  
  
Haught’s lips turn down, hurt once again flashing in her eyes, but she nods as she stands up. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll head out.”  
  
Before she can take more than a step towards the door, Wynonna speaks up again. “Hold up, Haught Shot. Just one more thing.” The officer gives her a look, raising an eyebrow, and Wynonna holds out her hand. “Help me up. I gotta pee like a freaking race horse.”  
  
Haught lets out a chuckle, shaking her head, but does as she’s told and helps pull Wynonna up to her feet. Once she’s standing again Wynonna doesn’t immediately let go, instead just stares her down once again.  
  
“I know you’re smart, Haught, so I know you know that there’s nothing in this world I care about more than my baby or my baby sister. If you hurt either of them, I think you also know there’s nothing in the world that could keep me from making you regret it. Right?”  
  
Nicole studies her face for a second and Wynonna doesn’t back down or loosen her grip, just stares at her. Finally the other woman gives her a nod.  
  
“I know, Wynonna,” she replies, voice quiet but firm. “I will never let anything bad happen to either of them, and I’m going to fix what happened with Waverly. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt her.”  
  
“Okay then,” Wynonna says, finally releasing her grip. “We’re good.” She steps around the officer, already letting the conversation drop. “Now I seriously do need to pee. See ya later, and sorry I missed nacho night.”  
  
She doesn’t wait for a response, waddling as quickly as she can to the bathroom, letting Nicole see herself out. One thing she does look forward to after giving birth is not having to pee a gazillion times a day, and she lets out a sigh of relief as soon as she makes it to the bathroom.  
  
“Seriously, as though the cankles weren’t enough, do you really need to screw with my bladder like this too?” she grumbles, glancing down at her stomach with her pants now down around her ankles. The baby doesn’t respond - it would be hella scary if it did, honestly - so she just rolls her eyes and pees.  
  
After she finishes in the bathroom she wanders around the first floor of the house, ending up in her bedroom once again. Glancing at the rumpled sheets on her bed the corners of her mouth twitch, thoughts floating back to how it felt to be lying so close to Dolls, to feel his body heat pressed so wonderfully against her back. Turns out there are perks to dying - almost dying? - though she’d rather avoid the burning building next time if she can help it.  
  
Thinking about the burning church turns her thoughts back to Robert Svane, and her smile falls away. Wynonna moves over to the corner of her room where a large box stands, baby clothes and other items laying on top of it. The box contains the crib Waverly bought two weeks ago that they haven’t had time to put together yet, and Wynonna feels the burning begin to build up again in the back of her throat knowing there’s no need to. She grabs the baby blanket at the top of the pile of clothes, and then waddles back over to her bed, groaning as she sits back down. The blanket is soft against her skin and she presses it against her face, closing her eyes. It’s a soft blue, perfect for a boy or a girl, and she bites her lip as she thinks about what she’s going to do.  
  
It’s the right choice, she knows that with every fiber of her being, but it’s still the hardest choice she’s ever had to make.  
  
The front door opens and shuts, and she hears footsteps before her sister calls out, “Wynonna? I got your yogurt. I even picked up some stuff so we could make our own nachos.”  
  
“In here,” she calls out, “You better’ve got meat and cheese, not just that vegan crap you like.” Her tone is teasing, light, controlled enough that Waverly shouldn’t have any idea what she’s been thinking about. She lowers the blanket to her lap and listens to Waverly walking through the house. The younger Earp appears in the kitchen, dropping a paper bag on the table, and then digs around and pulls out a tub of yogurt. She grabs a spoon from the dishrack by the sink and then bounds into the room, a big smile on her face.  
  
“Thanks baby girl.” She takes the yogurt with one hand and wraps her other around her sister’s wrist, lightly tugging her down beside her. “Come on, sit, I might even share if you’re lucky.”  
  
“Wow, someone’s in a good mood,” Waverly jokes, her smile growing, and Wynonna just shrugs as she opens her yogurt.  
  
“Eh, what can I say, I’m a giving soul.” Her sister tries to take her spoon and she yanks it back, raising an eyebrow at her. “Not that giving, I get the first bite, jeeze.”  
  
Waverly laughs, bright and beautiful, and Wynonna sinks into it when her little sister leans against her shoulder. “Okay Wynonna, whatever you want.”  
  
What Wynonna wants is to be able to keep her baby. She wants it to be Doc’s, doesn’t want there to be even a chance that it’ll be half revenant and stuck in the Ghost River Triangle. She wants Waverly to be nothing but her sister, doesn’t want her to have any of Bobo Del Rey or Robert Svane in her. She wants life to feel fair, just once, just one time, but that doesn’t happen when you’re the heir of a curse, so she settles for the peace of this moment. Waverly is leaning against her and smiling and her baby is safely tucked away from the world still, so that will have to be enough.  
  
Soon she will have to break her sister’s heart and give up their baby, but for now she’s content to pretend they can always be like this. She’ll pretend they will set up the crib in the corner and everything will be fine as they watch their baby grow.  
  
Pretending has to be enough until she can’t pretend anymore.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place between seasons two and three.

The bench she’s sitting on is hard, not in the slightest bit comfortable, and Wynonna shifts, fighting down a grimace. Her arms are crossed on top of the table and she leans on them, her leather jacket at least keeping the metal twines that make up the table’s surface from biting into her elbows. While outside it’s hot enough to instantly have her sweating, inside the air conditioner must be blasting because even with her leather jacket on Wynonna feels a small chill climb up her spine. Then again that could just be due to where she is, and who sits across from her.  
  
Michelle Earp - Mama - is rocking slightly in her own seat, unable to meet Wynonna’s gaze. One hand grips tightly to the red jumpsuit she has on, while the other taps incessantly against the table. Her long hair is messy, tied back in an uneven ponytail, and bangs hang in her face. All in all she looks exactly the same as every other time Wynonna has visited her over the past two months, and not much different than how she looked the last time she saw her before that, just before she ran off to Greece. Apparently there isn’t much opportunity for change inside the Ghost River Institution. Shocking.  
  
“Mama, come on, talk to me,” Wynonna tries again, leaning forward a little more. “Bulshar; what do you know about him?”  
  
“Bulshar?” Mama mumbles to the table, and Wynonna nods.  
  
“You know something about him, Mama. You told me about him once when I was little, remember? Told me that he was real, and you were right. He’s real and he’s coming, so now I need you to tell me everything you know about him.”  
  
Mama’s hand curls into a fist, and now it’s her knuckles that tap against the table’s surface. “Don’t know… Don’t remember. It won’t let me.”  
  
Wynonna clenches her jaw and closes her eyes, forcing herself to take a deep breath. “You do remember Mama. You have to. You said he was gonna rise and he has, and now we need your help. Me and Waverly, we need your help.”  
  
At her sister’s name, Mama suddenly looks up, eyes flashing.  
  
“You can’t tell her,” she snaps, “Can’t tell her I’m here. She can’t ever know. Not Waverly, not your sister.”  
  
Now it’s Wynonna’s hands that curl into fists and her fingernails dig into her palms, but she tries to keep the anger out of her voice when she replies. She knows she isn’t entirely successful, but she honestly doesn’t care all that much. “I know, Mama. She doesn’t know you’re here, she still thinks you abandoned us. Just like you and Daddy wanted.”  
  
It’s the only real secret she has ever purposefully kept from her sister, at least for an extended period of time, and now just like any time she thinks about it, guilt fills her gut. Her guilt means nothing to Mama, and she knows it by the way she nods, something like relief flashing across her face.  
  
“Good,” she just says, “She can’t know. Your sister can never know, it’s not safe. Not safe.”  
  
That’s a rabbit hole Wynonna has tried going down before and received nothing but a headache for, so right now she doesn’t even try. Instead she keeps her focus on Bulshar.  
  
“Waverly’s already not safe, Mama, neither of us are. Bulshar’s back and he’s coming for us. The big bad and stupid demon who started this whole thing is going to come after us soon and I need to know how to stop him. So help me, dammit.”  
  
“Demon,” Mama mumbles, shaking her head. Her fingers uncurl and then they’re in her hair, tugging lightly at it. “The demon’s not back.” Her voice begins to rise, steadily getting louder. “Trapped, stuck, stuck away. Won’t get out. Won’t let it out. Not now, not ever, won’t let it hurt my girls. Not my girls. Won’t let it get out!”  
  
She is yanking at her hair now as she violently shakes her head and Wynonna reaches forward, trying to get a grip on her wrists to pull her hands back down. “Hey!” she calls, “Hey, stay with me Mama, come on! Tell me about Bulshar!”  
  
“Won’t get out, demon trapped, can’t get out! Not my girls!” Mama pulls against her, fighting her, so Wynonna just tightens her grip. They’ve attracted attention though, and the next second two guards are behind her mother, yanking her to her feet. “No, no, not my girls, not the demon, won’t let it out!” Mama struggles against the guards and Wynonna lets go and watches with a scowl as her mother is dragged away, shouting nonsense about a trapped demon the entire time.  
  
She doesn’t bother to sit there any longer without her mother. As soon as Mama disappears from sight she’s up and stomping out of the room, ignoring the other guards or prisoners who give her looks as she passes them. Once she is out of the building Wynonna rips the visitor’s badge she’s wearing off of her jacket and shoves it angrily into her pocket. She’s on her motorcycle and tearing out of the visitor’s parking lot within minutes.  
  
After three other unsuccessful visits, the anger shouldn’t boil through her like this but it does. Now outside of the colorless concrete facility the heat hits her like an inferno, but the anger rolling around in her gut is ten times hotter. The anger only makes her go faster, and she races down the asphalt as she makes her way back into Purgatory. Thoughts tumble around her head as the wind whips at her jacket.  
  
It’s been two months since the Widows freed their asshole husband, and they still barely know anything about Bulshar. The team has been working together to hunt down revenants that might be able to tell them anything about him and Wynonna has been making these secret trips to visit her crazy mother in prison, but so far they barely have anything more than nothing. Each day that goes by only makes the pressure Wynonna feels building in her chest wind tighter, and she really doesn’t know how much longer she’ll be able to take this before she explodes.  
  
She’s fully aware that the tightness has to do with something so much more important than Bulshar, but she has done her absolute best not to think about it for two months and fails nearly every second. Now she just tightens her grip on the handlebars and practically shoves those thoughts back, swallowing down the pain and anger that is building in her throat.  
  
At the speed she’s going it doesn’t take long at all for her to make her way back to the homestead, and she’s not in the least bit surprised to see a police cruiser parked next to her truck and Waverly’s jeep in the driveway. She is a little surprised to find the owner of said cruiser lounging back in a chair next to a fire that has been built not far outside of the homestead, but the fact that Wynonna’s little sister is straddling her lap just makes Wynonna roll her eyes. Nicole and Waverly continue to make out even as she roars down the driveway, neither pulling away for even a moment as she kills the engine.  
  
“Yo, seriously, you’re not even going to stop for a second and pretend you two aren’t on the verge of getting down and dirty right here in the dirt?” she calls out loudly as she takes her helmet off, shaking her head at the two of them. “I don’t need to see this.”  
  
Waverly giggles as she finally pulls back a little, and Nicole looks over at her, grinning lazily. She raises an eyebrow. “If we stopped every time you interrupted us, we’d never have the chance to kiss at all, so now I have no problem making out in front of you.”  
  
Wynonna wrinkles her nose at the cop, hanging her helmet off one of the handlebars and then strolling over to them. “Yeah well, that’s enough of the PDA. I don’t need to see it.”  
  
Waverly shrugs, leaning back a little more. Nicole’s arms are wrapped around her waist, keeping her from falling backwards out of the chair. “I don’t know if you can count this as PDA. The homestead isn’t exactly public. Besides, I’ve seen you doing way worse than just making out with someone before. Or do you not remember that time behind Shorty’s when I saw you with Phil?”  
  
Honestly, the whole thing is a little blurry due to the bottle of tequila she’d had just before that, but she remembers enough of the encounter to know what Waverly is referring to. She echoes her sister’s shrug and stops behind their chair. “Eh, whatever, you turned out normal enough, it couldn’t have scarred you too much.” Just for the hell of it she grabs the back of their chair and tips it back, both women jumping a little as they jolt backwards. At least Nicole’s arms tighten around Waverly, as though to protect her should they fall, and Wynonna can’t help but once again admit to herself that her sister has finally found a good one. Not that she would ever say as much to Nicole, at least not without a hell of a lot of booze in her system.  
  
She catches the chair before it can actually tip over and rights them again, smirking down at the glare Nicole is giving her. “Careful Officer Haught Lips, your face’ll freeze like that.”  
  
“Mm, I like it,” Waverly chimes in, practically purring, and the look on Nicole’s face instantly shifts back to a smile. Wynonna pretends to vomit.  
  
“Blerp, gross. If you two are gonna keep being all cutesy then I need a beer.” She turns, but then throws a look towards the fire and quirks an eyebrow up. “And what’s with the flames, anyway? It isn’t hot enough for the two of you already? The amount of under-boob sweat I’ve got going on is crazy.”  
  
Nicole makes a face but Waverly just looks up at her. “We’re having a cookout,” she informs her sister, “Dolls, Doc, and Jeremy should be here any time, and they’re bringing the food.”  
  
One name sticks out from the rest, and Wynonna almost stumbles but catches herself and hopes neither of them noticed. “Doc is coming too?” He’s been more MIA than usual the past couple of months, helping the team when they need him for Bulshar business but otherwise keeping himself busy with business at Shorty’s.  
  
“Mmhm,” Waverly replies, “I talked to Dolls, and he said he was going to make sure Doc came even if it meant he had to drag him here.”  
  
Wynonna bites back the automatic comment that she wouldn’t be surprised if that’s exactly what he has to do. Instead she just nods, turning away from her sister. “Hm, got it. Sounds like it’s gonna be a real party then, better go start pregaming.” With that she strides up the porch and into the house, pulling the door shut behind her.  
  
She has already grabbed a beer from the fridge and is taking a long gulp when she hears the door open and close again, and she isn’t all that surprised when Waverly makes her way into the kitchen. Her sister has that look on her face that always tells Wynonna she knows exactly what the older Earp isn’t saying, and now Wynonna diverts her eyes, turning her focus back to her beer bottle.  
  
“You okay with Doc coming?” Waverly asks, still watching her, and Wynonna shrugs one shoulder without looking up.  
  
“Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
Waverly gives her a look, her arms crossing over her front as she leans against the doorway. “Um, I don’t know, maybe because you two haven’t really talked much lately. Not since...”  
  
She doesn’t finish her sentence, and Wynonna very purposefully ignores those last few words as she shrugs. “Both been busy. You know, he’s got Shorty’s to deal with and I’m trying to track down everything I can about Bulshart before he decides to stop playing hide-and-seek and switches to a version of tag where we end up dead. We still don’t know how to put him back in the ground, or hell, why he decided to curse dear ol’ Wyatt in the first place.” She takes another haul off her beer. “So, you know, lots to do.”  
  
Even without looking, Wynonna can feel her sister watching her, can feel the way her eyes are probably scanning her face. She can hear her sister’s sympathy when she tells her quietly, “You know it’s okay to talk about her, Wynonna. You and Doc, neither of you will even say her name. It’s been two months-”  
  
“I know how long it’s been, Waverly,” Wynonna snaps, interrupting her. Her grip on the beer bottle tightens and now she’s glaring at it. “Believe me, I know how long it’s been. I couldn’t forget it even if I wanted to.”  
  
Whereas most people would put distance between themselves and her when she uses that tone, Waverly closes the gap between them, her hand closing around her sister’s elbow and gripping it gently. Wynonna can’t help but look up, meeting her sister’s soft look. “It’s okay to miss her, Wynonna. It’s even okay to be mad she’s gone.”  
  
“She’s safe. She’s safe, and that’s all that matters. She’s going to stay safe.”  
  
Her sister’s arms move around her waist, now holding her while her chin rests lightly against Wynonna’s shoulder. “She is safe, and Gus will keep her safe, but that doesn’t mean you can’t miss her or be angry she isn’t here. It isn’t good to keep everything bottled inside all the time, for you or for Doc. You guys need to talk about her.” Her hold around her sister tightens, just barely. “You know I’m always here for you, Wynonna. I’ll always listen.”  
  
The tears that Wynonna has been fighting back ever since she gave her daughter away build up at the back of her eyes, and she has to blink them away. She swallows and bites her lip, and then turns and presses her forehead to her sister’s. Her eyes close.  
  
“I miss her. Alice. I miss my daughter. Every second.” The words are quiet, as though if she says them too loudly this feeling might swallow her up and never let her go, but she says them. They hang in the air, so heavy she can practically feel them, but the tight feeling she’s been carrying around in her chest actually loosens, marginally. She swallows again and opens her eyes, finding her sister’s, and one corner of her mouth twitches. “Thanks, baby girl.”  
  
“You don’t need to thank me, Wynonna,” Waverly tells her quietly, giving her another hug, “I’ll always be here for you. We’ll beat Bulshar and you’ll break the curse, and then Alice will come home.”  
  
Wynonna lets out a little noise, something caught between a laugh and a broken sob. “How is it you’re always so damn positive, huh?”  
  
Waverly smiles, pulling away a little. “Someone’s gotta be. You’re the sassy sister with the wit, and I’m the positive one with the smile.”  
  
“With Office Haught Shot outside waiting for you,” Wynonna reminds her, patting her lightly on the butt. “So why are you in here with me when you could be lip-locking with your girl?”  
  
“Because you’re my sister, and I’ll always be here when you need me.” She shrugs then, her smile growing. “Besides, Nicole is totally patient, and I always make sure it’s all worth the wait.” She winks, and Wynonna lets out a dramatic groan even as she fights back a smile of her own.  
  
“Gross. I so need to pregame more if we’re going to start talking about you and Ginger Snap’s sex life. I already hear enough of it as it is.” True to her word, Wynonna tips her head back and starts chugging, and Waverly just laughs beside her.  
  
She finishes the beer and grabs another, and Waverly grabs two as well and then the sisters make their way back outside to join Waverly’s girlfriend by the fire. Waverly plops herself back down on Nicole’s lap and one of the redhead’s arms wraps around her waist while Wynonna pulls up a chair of her own. She rolls her eyes and teases them mercilessly about not being able to keep their hands off each other, but neither of them seems to care. In fact, Nicole just nuzzles her nose against Waverly’s neck and makes the younger Earp giggle, and once again Wynonna pretends to be sick. It’s a picturesque kind of scene, the three of them just spending time together around the fire, and something Wynonna wishes they could do more of. Every once in a while it’s nice to feel like their lives are normal, so she lets the ease of the moment push away the near constant thoughts about Bulshar that have been plaguing her since his Widow wives released him.  
  
Wynonna’s gone in and gotten a third beer by the time Dolls’s car pulls into the driveway, and she takes a swig of the new drink as she watches it pull up next to her bike. The dust it stirred up is already settling when the doors open, and she hears Jeremy talking before she can see him.  
  
“...Just saying, I think it would be an excellent team building activity for us all, would really bring us together even more.” He rounds the car, glancing back and forth between Dolls and Doc as they exit the vehicle as well, each slamming their door closed behind them.  
  
“I already told you Jeremy, it’s not gonna happen,” Dolls tells him, his voice monotone, but Wynonna thinks she sees the corners of his mouth twitch. He moves around to the trunk, opening the door, and begins pulling out a couple of coolers.  
  
“Okay yeah, I know, but come on, just think about it a little more,” Jeremy insists, following Dolls but ignoring the coolers. “I mean, what better way for our team to really solidify than this kind of bonding experience right? Give us all a chance to get away for awhile, and you know you never really know someone until you’ve road tripped with them.” He elbows Dolls lightly in the side, wiggling his eyebrows at him, but the marshall doesn’t so much as turn around.  
  
“Not happening, Jeremy.”  
  
“Yo, nerdzilla, what’re you on over there?” Wynonna shouts, nodding over to him, and Jeremy turns towards the women, still smiling despite the fact Dolls has clearly shot down whatever wacky idea he’s come up with this time.  
  
“I was just thinking we could all use a little vacation, and might really benefit from some team bonding experiences, you know,” he tells them, stepping over towards their fire. He’s gesturing as he talks, and Wynonna looks from his hands to Doc and Dolls behind him. “A team you know, a team really needs to take every opportunity it can to bond together if it’s going to be as strong as it can be, and I just think there’s an opportunity here we’re missing.”  
  
Nicole gives him a look, raising an eyebrow. “Um I don’t know, I think nearly dying every few days does a pretty good job of forcing the team bonding. And no offense, but I’m not sure I want to go on a road trip with all of you. I don’t think we’d fit in any car comfortably, and even with an RV I don’t think we’d make it very far before someone tried killing someone else.”  
  
Various pairs of eyes shift to Wynonna and she pretends to be offended. “Why are you all looking at me? Dolls hates it when anyone touches his things, and most of you haven’t had to fight Waverly for the bathroom in the morning.” She points a finger at her sister as she lifts her beer again. “Real grouch, I’m just saying.”  
  
Waverly sticks her tongue out at her and Wynonna notices that Nicole is very careful to stay quiet at that, but then they all turn back to Jeremy as he starts talking again.  
  
“Okay, so no road trip then, that’s fine, not a big deal. I still think there’s an opportunity here, a real chance for us to all come together and-”  
  
Doc’s hand claps down on his shoulder, cutting him off. “Jeremy is of the belief that we should all go to this ‘Comic-Com’ get together next month,” he informs the women as Dolls closes the trunk again. He goes over and grabs one of the coolers, leaving the second for the marshall. “I must admit to not understanding the appeal.”  
  
“Comic- _Con_ would be great for us!” Jeremy’s hands wave around in the air. “Just think about it, we could go to panels, meet some of the creators from some of our favorite shows, we could even do a group cosplay!” He tilts his head. “I’m thinking maybe we go Marvel and Avengers, you know, stick to the whole hero thing since it’s what we’re already good at.” He points to each of them in turn, and it is clear in seconds that he’s thought this through already in detail. “Dolls, you’re obviously a ringer for Fury, but you know, I think you’ve also got kind of a Steve Rogers vibe about you too, so Captain America would be a solid choice too. Doc, I don’t know, I think the most obvious one would be Two-Gun Kid. Admittedly not part of the recent movies and so not as well known as say Iron Man or Thor, but it could work. Nicole would rock it as Black Widow, Waverly would kick all the butt as Scarlet Witch, hey-o, and Wynonna I’m picturing as Captain Marvel.” His hands go to his hips. “Now for myself, I don’t know, I’m honestly torn between Hawkeye and Spiderman. Both great characters and awesome heroes, it’s just so hard to decide.”  
  
Dolls steps up beside him, resting his elbow briefly on Jeremy’s shoulder. “I’ll decide for you then: we’re not going. You’re not getting me in any of those spandex suits.”  
  
Doc scrunches up his face. Apparently costume details had not yet come up during the ride over. “Nor I. And it would be fair foolish to call me ‘Two-Gun Kid’ when I am older than the state of Colorado.”  
  
“Isn’t Captain Marvel a blonde?” Wynonna asks, giving Jeremy a look.  
  
He shrugs one shoulder and scratches the back of his neck. “Eh…”  
  
“No way in hell am I dying my hair, geek-o-saurus.”  
  
Jeremy deflates, but nods. “Yeah, okay, it would be a crime to dye that luscious mane, I can agree with that. And wigs itch.”  
  
Waverly reaches out, patting him sympathetically on the arm. “Sorry Jer, but this just isn’t a good time for that kind of team bonding. Maybe next year.”  
  
Wynonna, Doc, and Dolls all share a look, each one of them clearly thinking there’s no way that’s ever going to happen, but Jeremy just shrugs as he hangs his head. “It’s probably too late to get passes anyway.”  
  
Nicole lightly taps Waverly’s knee and the youngest Earp shifts so she can get up. “Come on Jeremy, pull up a chair. I’m sure a veggie burger will cheer you up.” A couple of chairs are folded up and leaning against the porch so she goes over and grabs them, and as she does Wynonna scrunches up her nose.  
  
“Ugh, tell me you guys brought something more than that healthy no-actual-animal-was-harmed-in-the-making-of-this-burger crap? You know if it wasn’t mooing this morning I don’t want it.”  
  
Her sister rolls her eyes beside her as Nicole begins to set up the two chairs she’s dragged over. “I really wish you would give veggie burgers a try, Wynonna. I think you’d love them, they’re so yummy.”  
  
“True dat,” Jeremy agrees, stepping up behind Waverly and giving her a high-five. Wynonna makes a face at both of them, but then turns away when she feels a nudge against her shoulder. Looking up she finds Dolls standing behind her holding one of the coolers.  
  
“No worries, we’ve got burgers of the animal and non-animal varieties.” He then nods back towards his car. “And we brought donuts to leave for breakfast tomorrow morning.”  
  
Wynonna’s eyes go wide and she springs up out of her chair. “Screw breakfast, come to Mama!” Out of the corner of her eye she sees Dolls roll his eyes and smirk but no one tries to stop her. She’s at the car in a blink of an eye and grinning the moment she sees the box of a dozen donuts sitting on the passenger’s seat.  
  
With the box in one hand and a chocolate-frosted with sprinkles in the other, she slams the door closed again and saunters back over to the group, mowing down on the donut as she goes. It’s half gone when she gets back to the half-circle of chairs now spread out around the fire, and for a second she’s too distracted with its deliciousness to notice that her seat is no longer available. Jeremy has taken it, and is now in a debate with Waverly over who would win in a fight between Spiderman and Captain America. Who would have guessed her sister was such a geek?  
  
“Yo, Spider-Nerd, outta my seat,” she interrupts, jerking her head at him. To her great annoyance, he just smiles at her and tilts his head slightly.  
  
“You didn’t call savesies, Wynonna,” he points out. “It’s a known fact that if you don’t call savesies, the seat isn’t yours anymore and anyone can take it.”  
  
“Like calling shotgun,” Waverly adds, trying not to grin and failing as she looks from her best friend to her sister and back again.  
  
Wynonna raises an eyebrow. “Dudes, my house. I don’t need to call savesies at my house. My house, my chair, mine.”  
  
“ _Our_ house,” Waverly argues, and then shrugs. “And those are the rules, Nonna. Sorry, we didn’t make them.” The two friends grin at each other and Wynonna has the biggest urge to give them each a wedgie or something equally as unpleasant, but in the end she just rolls her eyes.  
  
“Whatever, I don’t wanna listen to whatever nerdy thing you two are talking about anyway.” The rest of their group is moving around the grill that Doc has pulled out of the barn and Wynonna decides that’s a better place to be, but before she makes her way to them her foot darts out, hooking around one of the legs of Jeremy’s chair. The guy is so light it takes only a little snag from her to tip the chair back, and he’s grabbing onto the arms of the chair as it falls back into the dirt. Waverly’s out of her chair and kneeling beside him almost as soon as he’s down, but Wynonna just smirks before walking around them and joining the others.  
  
Dolls and Nicole cook the burgers, handing the spatula back and forth to each other as they talk police business that Wynonna entirely ignores. For a few minutes Doc leans against the porch, the corners of his mouth pulling up as he listens to them, but when he and Wynonna make eye contact for the third time he leaves them to join Wavelry and Jeremy at the fire. She watches him go, the ache Waverly managed to quell only a little while ago spiking up again. It’s obvious to all of them that he’s missing Alice too, that he hasn’t been able to get past giving up their daughter either, and a small lump forms in the back of Wynonna’s throat now as she thinks about it. She swallows it down quickly and pushes away the ache in her chest, turning towards Dolls and Nicole to distract her.  
  
With the burgers cooked Waverly disappears inside for a few minutes to return with a bowl of potato salad, and more chairs are dragged around the fire. Wynonna abandons her box of donuts for a plate, and the group settles down to eat and drink. It’s far from quiet as they eat, and the sound of Waverly and Jeremy laughing as Nicole and Dolls smile makes her chest ache in the best possible way. Doc remains quiet in his seat across from her, only adding pieces to the conversation here and there, but just the fact that he’s there is enough for now.  
  
They have all finished eating by the time it starts to get dark. Everything has begun to turn various shades of blue except for the fire, and a lull in the conversation amplifies the sounds of crickets as night slowly settles in. It’s a peaceful moment, and something in Wynonna’s gut tells her there won’t be many more of these soon, so she drinks it in. She’s now on her fifth beer which means her body has just begun to feel a little heavier than normal, and she shifts so that one leg hangs over the arm of her chair with her elbow propped up on the other one. It’s an oddly comfortable position, and when she sees her sister give her a look she just flashes her a lazy smile.  
  
She isn’t the only one looking content; Waverly and Nicole are sitting in their own chairs but close enough that they’re holding hands, and Waverly’s head is resting on Nicole’s shoulder. Jeremy is leaning forward in his chair, staring into the fire, and Wynonna’s pretty sure he’s going to ask for marshmallows any moment. Which, really, if he doesn’t then she probably will. Dolls is sitting back in his chair next to her and she’s pretty sure he’s more relaxed than she’s ever seen him. Doc is also sitting back, but his expression isn’t quite so relaxed, his brow pulled down as he stares into the flames. He’s fiddling with the cloth wrapped around his right hand, and Wynonna’s eyes drop to it.  
  
“Shouldn’t that have healed by now?”  
  
She breaks the silence, and everyone looks from her to Doc. He glances up at her without actually lifting his head and gives a shrug. “It is on the mend.”  
  
“That was a nasty injury,” Jeremy cuts in, shaking his head and grimacing at the bandage. “A knife through the hand; not fun. Still, by now it shouldn’t need to be covered like that, after two months there should be enough scar tissue to keep it clean.”  
  
“Some scars take longer than two months to heal,” Doc bites out. Jeremy jumps slightly at his tone, but Wynonna’s lips press together and her brow furrows; it’s clear to her he isn’t talking about his hand. A heaviness fills the silence now, no one knowing what to say, and Doc sighs before running a hand over his face. “I believe I may have left a bottle of whiskey in the barn back when I was residing there,” he states, standing up. “I will return shortly.” He tips his hat to the group and then turns around without another word, and Wynonna watches him walk away and disappear into the barn.  
  
No one says anything, they all just watch him go. Wynonna’s gripping her beer tightly now, and when she finally goes to take another drink she happens to catch her sister’s eyes. Waverly’s brow rises and she nods towards the barn, the look clear and Wynonna grimaces. “Okay fine, whatever,” she growls beneath her breath, and then she’s standing too. “Don’t wait up,” she tells them, voice a little louder, and then she’s following Doc.  
  
Stepping into the barn, she takes a quick look around even as she pulls the door shut behind her. She finds Doc standing beside the makeshift bed that’s still up against the far wall, just staring into the corner.  
  
“If you really think I left an unattended bottle of whiskey out here for this long, then you’re crazy,” she tries to joke, taking a few more steps inside. “Any booze you stashed in here is long gone.”  
  
“Go back out to the fire, Wynonna.” It’s as clear as a dismissal can get, and it only makes Wynonna clench her jaw and her knees lock stubbornly in place.  
  
“You can’t avoid me forever, Doc,” she tells him, wishing she could keep the anger out of her voice but after more than two months of him barely even looking at her it’s impossible to entirely hold back. “I get it, okay? Maybe I should’ve talked to you about it before I just decided to send Alice away, but I did what I had to to keep our daughter safe.”  
  
His head snaps towards her at the name, and even in the growing dark she can see the way his jaw clenches. “I am well aware of why you did what you did.”  
  
“Well then why are you being such an asshole?” she demands, glaring at him. “You’ve barely so much as looked at me since that day, let alone wanted to be alone in the same room as me! Unless we’re hunting for Bulshar you avoid me whenever possible and I’m just-”  
  
“Bulshar needs to be everyone’s first priority right now!” he interrupts, taking a few quick steps towards her. “What are we all doing here, Wynonna? Why are we telling stories around a campfire while the Earps’ greatest enemy is doing God-knows-what, and preparing his attack?”  
  
Wynonna clenches her jaw so hard it hurts, and pushes into his space, now standing closer to him than she has since the day their daughter was born and removed from their lives. “You think I don’t know that? You think I’m not doing everything I can to figure out where Bulshar is and why he hasn’t attacked me yet?” She jams her finger into his chest. “This is my life, Doc! I’m the one whose life was ruined because of that asshole’s stupid fucking curse! I’ve spent every single day for weeks trying to hunt him down and find a way to put him down!”  
  
“May I remind you, yours is not the only life that has been negatively affected due to Bulshar and his curse.” Doc doesn’t back down, just grabs her wrist and jerks her hand away from his chest. “I have been part of this since long before you were even born, and I well remember the stories of Sheriff Clootie. If we are going to somehow miraculously do what even Wyatt Earp was unable to and put him down for good, then we should not be wasting our time sitting around a fire eating potato salad!”  
  
Something inside of Wynonna finally springs loose, and the fury and grief she’s fought so hard to keep bottled up floods through her. She yanks her wrist out of his grip and then pushes him, hard enough that he has to take a quick step back.  
  
“Alright, fine, you want to make sure we’re prepared for Sheriff Clootie, then let’s go.” She raises her arms up in front of her with her hands curled into fists, settling into the stance Dolls taught her long ago. Her weight shifts from one foot to the other, too much energy racing through her to stand still.  
  
Doc’s brow lifts in surprise and his eyes scan her face and stance, but after a second Wynonna sees something settle in his expression. He removes his hat, tosses it back onto the bed with a simple flick of his wrist, and then raises his fists as well. He stares at her and she stares back, each likely reading the pain that flashes in the other’s eyes, but they don’t say another word.  
  
Wynonna darts forward, her fist lashing out, and Doc catches the strike with the back of his arm, shoving it away. He uses the momentum to step forward, leading into his own attack, and Wynonna ducks out of the way of his own fist just in time. She turns and throws an elbow at him that he turns to take on the shoulder, and the sparring match continues. With every movement Wynonna can feel her anger growing and sizzling out in turn, and for the first time in months she can actually breathe without her chest feeling like it’s about to cave in on itself. When she catches Doc’s eye again she sees the same hint of relief she feels, and their bodies just continue to move even long after they are both gasping for breath.  
  
When the darkness grows too heavy to see through, they pause only to light the few lanterns hanging in the barn, and then they are back at it. Outside their family waits for them to rejoin them, but Wynonna and Doc remain locked away inside the barn, fighting against the pain that has been consuming them both for weeks the only way either of them know how.  
  
Waverly is the Earp sister who deals with her grief through words; Wynonna’s always dealt with hers through her fists.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during episode 3.05, "Jolene."

The biting cold of the wind cuts through Wynonna’s jacket. Considering the fact that it is December now she really should have switched the usual leather out for something a little more durable against the cold, but she barely even notices the below freezing temperature. The sun has long since set and wind whips at her hair, but Wynonna really doesn’t care. She just stands where she is, staring ahead of her, and lets the cold sink into her skin.  
  
The Gibson Greenhouse stands behind her, rundown and ignored for almost twenty years. If she really tried she could remember running around inside with Willa when they were little, maybe even chasing Waverly through the plants once or twice, but ever since Mama was taken away she hasn’t spared it a second thought. Now she’s here for the third time in one day, but even so it’s still one of the last things on her mind right now.  
  
She stares at the cluster of tall, thin trees directly in front of her. They’re so close together it’s impossible to see through them, the entire small grove nothing but shadows and bark, vines and branches twined around one another. None of them were there when she was young or were even there twenty-four hours ago, and a prickle of unease runs down her spine just from staring at this little sample of the kind of power Bulshar has. Still, even he isn’t the demon Wynonna can’t scrub from her mind at the moment, and she continues to glare at the spot where Jolene disappeared among the branches.  
  
It has been maybe an hour since the trees took her. Maybe an hour since Wynonna stepped into the greenhouse to find Waverly going after her with a shovel. She’d heard the shouting inside the second she and Mama pulled up to the building, and she can still feel the lump that lodged in her throat the very instant she heard the demon’s screech inside. Every second after she realized what Jolene was fear had clogged her lungs and filled her chest, and even now with the bitch’s neck snapped and tangled up in Bulshar’s less-than-tender embrace that fear still buzzes just beneath her skin. It’s one of the reasons she is here again, standing and staring instead of holed up in the warmth of the homestead with her family.  
  
Acting on impulse, she suddenly lifts Peacemaker out of its holster, holding it straight out in front of her. She points it at the stand of trees and its barrel remains cold metal, but even so she squeezes the trigger. Once, twice. She just keeps squeezing until every chamber is empty and the gun has nothing left to give but empty clicks. With each shot a bullet embeds itself into one of the trees, but other than the reverberation of the shots the night is silent.  
  
The silence does nothing to quell the rolling storm in Wynonna’s chest, nor does the stillness of the night.  
  
“You better be dead,” she says suddenly, voice low and dangerous as she speaks to the thing trapped inside the trees. “You better be so fucking dead. If you’re not, and if I ever see you again, you’ll wish Bulshar had killed you.”  
  
The night doesn’t answer her. She wishes something would; she wishes Jolene would pop out of the trees, or hell, even Bulshar. Wynonna wants to hurt something, to kill something. She wants to take every horrible feeling eating away at her insides, turn it into a weapon, and hurl it at something. She needs something to hurt the way she’s hurting, but just like any night the stars remain silent in the black sky, the wind does nothing but blow lightly through the trees, and the earth remains still. There’s nothing to shoot, no bad guy to hit until her knuckles are a torn bloody mess, so all she can do is try to ignore the thoughts trying to form in her head and fail.  
  
She stands there for a while longer just staring at Bulshar’s grove, but finally she shoves Peacemaker back into its holster and turns around. Wynonna stomps over to her truck and slams the door behind her and then is off, trying to leave this spot and what happened here behind her. Part of her - a large part of her, the part that almost always wins - wants to get wasted, wants to get so drunk she can’t even remember her own name let alone anything that happened today. Shorty’s is closed though, probably still a mess after the bar fight she definitely played a big role in, and even Pussy Willows isn’t an option considering it’s still closed due to the mass murder committed there not so long ago. Alcohol probably isn’t the best option right now anyway, considering the last time she felt even remotely like this she ended up having sex with a revenant in an alleyway and then was stuck wondering if the revenant might be the father of her baby for a few months. It’s only been in the past couple of weeks that she’s finally started to feel a little more whole again knowing that her daughter is somewhere in the world growing up without her; she definitely doesn’t need to stumble back down that path again.  
  
So alcohol is out. For now at least. She doesn’t exactly have many friends, especially not ones that she could just show up at their house after a truly shitty day and crash on their couch, so there’s really only one place for her to go but even as she turns her truck in the homestead’s direction her palms begin to sweat and her teeth grip her bottom lip tightly. It takes only minutes, far too few of them, and then she’s pulling up the driveway, but after she’s shut off the ignition she just sits in her truck and stares at her home.  
  
The lights are all on, and she can see movement inside. There should be movement; after Bulshar killed Jolene she and Mama brought Waverly home and found Nicole and Doc already there waiting for them. Wynonna had watched the absolute relief cross Nicole’s face the moment she saw Waverly, and stayed long enough to see the two of them grab onto each other and not let go. The group had moved inside but Wynonna hadn’t been able to follow, and when Doc just gave her a look she’d mumbled some lame excuse and took off again. Now again she’s here and her family is on the other side of that door, and still Wynonna can’t make herself walk up that porch and join them inside. Her fingers clutch still at the steering wheel and she just stares, watching the shapes of the people she loves most in the world move around in the warm light while she sits in the dark.  
  
That something inside doesn’t want her sitting still; it still wants to fight or to scream, so Wynonna lets out a huff and then gets out of the truck, shoving her hands into her pockets as she hip-checks the door shut behind her. She glances again towards the homestead but only for a second and then turns away, and then begins trudging through the snow, walking aimlessly. For a moment she considers going to the barn to at least get out of the cold a little but her feet end up taking her in the opposite direction. For all she knows Doc’s in there waiting for her, and talking to him about the wife that’s suddenly sprung back up in his life again is pretty much at the bottom of her bucket list at the moment. She just walks, lets her feet lead the way, and hunches forward in her jacket.  
  
She doesn’t realize where she’s going until she spots the headstone up ahead, barely visible in the dark, but the sharp pang in her chest doesn’t stop her from closing the gap. She hasn’t been back here since they buried Dolls’s ashes but now she sits beside the little grave, her legs folding up under her. The cold of the snow seeps through her jeans quickly numbing her ass and her legs but she doesn’t move, just sits silently staring at the headstone and lets her thoughts finally take over.  
  
“First major demon without you and I fucked up. Big time.” The headstone doesn’t reply, and Wynonna just shoves her hands deeper into her pockets. “The bitch got me, but you wouldn’ta been fooled. Her sugar-encrusted evil probably wouldn’t’ve even affected you. She’da shoved a cupcake in your dragon mouth and you would have fire-breathed her straight to hell.” She pauses, and then shakes her head. “Hell would be too good for her. After what she did, what I said-” Wynonna cuts herself off, having to swallow to try to temper the sudden burning in her throat. “Bulshar killed her too quick. She should’ve suffered.”  
  
Dolls’s grave still remains silent, so Wynonna decides to add in his piece of the conversation for him.  
  
“You got her, Earp,” she says, deepening her voice, “That’s what matters. You know demons have their tricks, but you’ve got that big ass gun.”  
  
“Yeah sure, but Peacemaker almost wasn’t enough tonight. I almost lost her, Dolls. Just like I lost you. What’s the point of having a magical gun if I keep losing the only people who actually matter to me? I can’t lose my sister. I can’t.”  
  
“You didn’t.”  
  
Wynonna jumps, her heart slamming into her chest at the words. She’d been so caught up in her one-sided conversation with her partner’s grave that she hadn’t heard the crunching footsteps coming up behind her. Her hand is already grabbing at Peacemaker even as she remembers all of its chambers are empty, but when she sees her mother standing behind her she releases it.  
  
“Holy Jesus dick sucker, don’t freaking do that,” she gasps, her hand now pressing against her chest. She can feel her heart still racing beneath her palm. The corner of her mother’s mouth twitches, but she otherwise doesn’t react to the fact she almost gave her daughter a heart attack.  
  
“You didn’t lose Waverly, Wynonna, you saved her.” Mama takes another step forward so that she’s standing next to her eldest daughter, but Wynonna turns away from her, looking back towards the headstone.  
  
“She saved herself. I just helped that bitch Jolene get to her by saying… that.” The words shout inside her head in her own voice, and she wishes covering her ears would somehow make them quieter but she knows nothing will be able to make them disappear.  
  
A hand grips her shoulder tightly, and Wynonna simultaneously wants to lean into it and yank away.  
  
“Jolene had us all fooled, every one of us. We all said or did things we never woulda done if she hadn’t made us. I know you know that.”  
  
That’s really the problem though: Wynonna can’t figure out if Jolene made her say it or not. Sure Mama’s right, she never would have said it if the demon hadn’t been practically force-feeding her those baked goods, but did she force her to say those exact words? Wynonna is very aware of all the terrible things she’s ever said or done, so it isn’t like it’s outside the realm of possibility that she would sink this low. Her entire life she’s believed Waverly is the one person she could never purposefully hurt, so did Jolene force her to say something she never would have otherwise even thought, or did she force her to realize just exactly how terrible she is?  
  
“Do I?” she hears herself wonder under her breath, but the tightening grip on her shoulder tells her Mama heard it too.  
  
“You do,” she insists, and then lightly tugs on Wynonna’s jacket. “Now come on, it’s freezing outside, sitting in the snow’s just gonna make you sick all the faster and if I remember correctly - which I do - you’re a pain in the ass when you’re sick.”  
  
When she gives another little tug Wynonna just yanks her shoulder away from her mother. “I’ll be in in a few minutes,” she mutters, not looking up. “I’m just… talking to a friend right now.”  
  
Michelle Earp stares down at her daughter in the snow, trying to decide what to do. On the one hand her motherly instincts are telling her to drag her daughter back to the house if that’s what it takes to get her into someplace warm, but on the other hand she’s entirely aware that would never work. Even when she was twelve Wynonna couldn’t be dragged anywhere she didn’t want to go without a good amount of kicking and screaming, and despite the fact she’s now only a couple of years short of thirty, Michelle’s sure it wouldn’t be any different. Except maybe for the fact that she’s stronger now, and the mother wouldn’t have enough strength to drag her demon-fighting daughter a few feet let alone all the way back to the house. She supposes she could keep arguing to try to get her back, but each of her daughters have always been just as stubborn as their mother, which means she and Wynonna could be arguing all night and freeze to death before she managed to make any headway. So after a few seconds, Michelle just shrugs.  
  
“Alright, have it your way. Just don’t stay out here too long. Lord knows none of us needs to be getting sick. It’s nearly Christmas, after all.”  
  
Wynonna just flicks her wrist, her hand barely doing more than just flopping to indicate she heard her, and the mother shakes her head but turns and begins making her way back to the homestead. She’d like to believe her daughter will finally notice the cold and follow behind her, but when she gets to the porch and looks back she can just barely make out the shadow still in the snow. Michelle blows into her hands and then rubs them together, putting off going inside as her heart breaks for that shadow, but then turns back around and finishes the trek.  
  
A blast of warmth hits her as she closes the front door behind her, and suddenly the jacket and hat she has on are too much. She shucks both off and hangs them on the hooks beside the door, and a small smile tugs at her lips when she hears giggles coming from the kitchen.  
  
“Nicole!” Waverly squeals, ducking from the droplets of water her girlfriend is flicking at her as Michelle walks into the room. Neither of the younger women notice her right away, so she watches as her daughter’s girlfriend wraps her arms around Waverly’s waist, tugging her against her chest.  
  
“I told you I’d get you back for splashing me, Waves,” she informs her, a great big smile on her face. Michelle notices the sink full of dishes behind them, quickly filling in all of the pieces of this scene she’s just walked in on. Nicole leans down, dropping a kiss to Waverly’s nose. “All’s fair in love and war, baby.”  
  
“Mmm,” Waverly hums, “and this is a war I plan to win.” Her hand slinks up around the back of Nicole’s neck and tugs at it lightly, and then the two of them are kissing, locked together in their own little world.  
  
There’s a sense of familiarity in the whole scene, and Michelle feels her heart squeeze in her chest when she realizes how much they remind her of when she and Julian were together. There wasn’t the same level of domesticity - not with Julian being her safe space away from a painful and unhappy marriage - but the love was there. She could see Julian’s love for her in his eyes every time he looked at her, and she remembers how easy it was to get so completely lost in that love that everything else just melted away.  
  
She shifts and must make some kind of noise because the two women pull away from each other, both jumping a little. Nicole quickly drops her hands from Waverly but still stands close enough that their sides are touching, and Waverly just turns her smile on her mother.  
  
“Oh, Mama, didn’t hear you come in.” She rubs sheepishly at the back of her head. “Where’d you go? You just kind of disappeared so Nicole and I figured we’d get some of these dishes out of the way.”  
  
Michelle crosses the room, wrapping an arm around her youngest daughter’s shoulders and pressing a quick kiss to her temple. God is it good to finally be able to touch her baby again without having to worry about a demon trying to kill her. “Just thought I’d slip outside for a few minutes. Heard your sister come home and wanted to check on her.”  
  
Waverly’s smile wipes away at the mention of Wynonna. It had worried her earlier when Wynonna didn’t come inside with everyone else after the whole Jolene thing, and that worry has steadily been increasing the longer she’s been gone. She’s tried to ignore it, has mostly been able to ignore it with Nicole here to distract her, but now that she’s thinking about her again her worry hits her ten-fold.  
  
“Wynonna’s back? Where is she?” She looks around the doorway, as though her sister might be sitting in her chair in the living room. It and the rest of the furniture is unsurprisingly empty.  
  
Mama jerks her head back a little. “Outside,” she tells them, “sitting by what I’m assuming is a grave. And honestly I don’t think she’s doing too great, honey.”  
  
Waverly’s eyes dart over to Nicole, who’s already looking at her. Her expression is just as serious as Waverly’s. “Dolls.” She reaches out, grabs Waverly’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Go on, she needs you.”  
  
The youngest Earp nods; she’s fully aware that even though she’s the one who was holding a knife up to her own chest only a couple of hours ago, her sister probably needs her just as much as she needs Wynonna right now. She squeezes Nicole’s hand back and then lets go and is already making her way towards the door as she says, “We’ll be back soon, I hope.”  
  
Both Nicole and Mama nod. “Sounds good,” Mama tells her, and then one corner of her mouth tugs up into a lazy grin. “This’ll give me a chance to get to know your Nicole a little better.”  
  
Nicole’s eyebrows shoot up and she’s glancing quickly between Waverly and her mother, but Waverly just hides her own grin behind one hand. “Be nice, Mama!” she warns, and then she’s grabbing her winter jacket from its hook and yanking on a hat, scarf, and mittens. She really, really hates being cold. The last thing she pulls on are her winter boots, and then she’s out of the house and trudging through the snow towards Dolls’s grave.  
  
She sees Wynonna huddled on the ground before she quite reaches her, and the way her sister’s shoulders are slumped and she’s hunching into herself hits Waverly hard. This isolation is too familiar, too much like the sister she didn’t have the chance to grow up with, and it scares her. She also shivers when she sees Wynonna sitting in the snow, but she pushes that away to focus on the more important problem here. If Wynonna hears her approach she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look over her shoulder, and then Waverly is lowering herself down beside her, trying to ignore the extra bite of cold that hits her the second her legs are touching the ground.  
  
Silence hangs in the air between the sisters for a long moment, and then Waverly leans against Wynonna.  
  
“I miss him too,” she murmurs, staring ahead at Dolls’s headstone. With everything that’s happened it’s hard to believe he’s been gone for barely even a couple of weeks.  
  
Wynonna doesn’t say anything, just remains silent beside her, so Waverly tries again. She reaches out, worms her arm through her sister’s. “Wynonna?” When she still doesn’t get any kind of response, she nudges her shoulder lightly. “Come on, talk to me.”  
  
“I can’t-” Wynonna’s voice cuts off, and Waverly can hear the edge to it. “I don’t know…” A few seconds go by while Waverly assumes she’s trying to sort out her thoughts, and then she hears Wynonna whisper, “I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’m just...” She lets out a heavy sigh.  
  
“Hey, it’s okay,” Waverly begins to tell her, but Wynonna cuts her off.  
  
“No it isn’t! It’s not okay!” Anger laces her voice, and her volume rises enough that she’s on the cusp of shouting. “What I said… You are the most important person in the world to me, Waverly, the most important. And then some bitchy demon with her skanky baked goods shoves a cookie in my mouth and I say _that_? I don’t give a shit who our fathers are, you are my _sister_ , Waverly. Just as much my sister as Willa. Hell, more even!”  
  
She knows it was just Jolene’s baked goods that made Wynonna call her her half-sister, but even so Waverly feels warmth flood her chest. She clings tighter to her sister’s arm and rests her head against her shoulder.  
  
“I know, Wynonna. You’re my sister, and the most important person in the world to me too. That doesn’t change because a stupid demon tried to turn everyone in my life against me.”  
  
Wynonna finally glances over at her, her shoulders just beginning to relax. “Don’t tell Haught Stuff that, you might break her heart,” she mutters, and Waverly rolls her eyes even as she grins.  
  
“You can both be my most important people, okay?”  
  
Wynonna nods, even as her eyes close, and then she’s leaning into Waverly. “I’m just so sorry, Waves. For all of it. I’m sorry I didn’t get that bitch sooner. Didn’t get her before she got that far.” Waverly can swear she hears a waver in her voice as she adds, “Sorry I couldn’t save you from… any of it.”  
  
“You did save me, Wynonna,” Waverly assures her quietly. Her sister’s eyes open again and she meets them. She worries at her lip for a second, and then continues, “I went to a really, really dark place for a while there. Jolene, she made me believe for a bit that no one really needed me, that I was just.” She shrugs. “A nuisance, and unwanted. For a second I, I actually believed everyone would be better off without me.”  
  
Wynonna reaches over, grasping tightly at Waverly’s hand. The younger Earp can see the fury and absolute fear that flashes in her sister’s eyes, and it actually makes it easier to talk around the lump in her throat.  
  
“I don’t know, I might have done it, might have actually listened to her, but then I thought of you. I know you love me, Wynonna, know that you always have. Jolene wanted me to believe otherwise, but I never will. So yeah, you saved me when I was at the absolute worst point of my life.”  
  
The grip on her hand tightens, and then Wynonna lets go just enough to sling her arm around Waverly’s shoulders and tug her close to her chest.  
  
“You saved yourself, baby girl, because you’re strong. The strongest person I know.” The words are barely more than a murmur against her hair, but then Wynonna’s voice is stronger as she pulls back just enough that the two sisters can actually look at each other. “But yeah, I do love you. Always will. You’re always my number one, Waverly. And I’ll send any demon that tries to hurt you, or tries to make you feel worthless straight to hell. I don’t give a shit who they are or how good their cupcakes taste.”  
  
A little laugh bubbles up the back of Waverly’s throat. “She really did make some tasty treats, didn’t she?” she says, shaking her head. “It really is too bad she was such a nasty demon.”  
  
“Pretty sure my taste buds had an orgy every time one of those suckers ended up in my mouth,” Wynonna admits with a shrug and Waverly wiggles her eyebrows.  
  
“Aye,” she sing-songs, and Wynonna grins even as she pulls her sister closer.  
  
“God I love you,” she mumbles into Waverly’s hair, and then she’s waving her free hand in the air. “Screw her. The bitch and her cupcakes can rot. I only just finished losing the baby weight a couple of months ago, she’da just made me fat again.”  
  
Waverly rolls her eyes, the corners of her mouth twitching. “I’ve told you before Wynonna, you weren’t _fat_ , you were carrying a _baby_. It would have been so much more unhealthy if you hadn’t gained a little weight.”  
  
“Eh, whatever, I’m back in demon-fighting, whisking-drinking shape now.” She flashes a smirk at her sister, and then lets her head rest against Waverly’s. The two huddle together for another few moments, letting everything that each has had bottled up inside for the past couple of hours finally filter away, and then Wynonna feels Waverly shiver against her. She chuckles, and then shifts, pulling away. “Alright, let’s go, it’s too damn cold to be sitting in the snow any longer.” She pauses for a second, and then adds, “But don’t tell Mama I said that. Last thing I need tonight is a ‘told ya so’ from her.”  
  
Waverly grins again, and then begins to push herself back up to her feet. “Promise. It’s gonna be kind of weird now, isn’t it? Having her back, I mean. And it really being _her_ now.”  
  
“Mm,” Wynonna just hums, still on the ground. “Something tells me we’ll figure it out.” She goes to stand up, but then almost falls on her face when her legs don’t quite cooperate with her. “Ah, Waves? A little help here? Think my legs have gone completely numb. Another thing not to tell Mama.” She reaches out her hand for her sister to take.  
  
“And to think, the secrets I used to keep from her were the times you and Willa stole Daddy’s whiskey,” Waverly teases, but grabs Wynonna’s hand and helps tug her up to her feet. Her sister nearly pitches forward but Waverly steadies her, and then wraps Wynonna’s arm around her shoulders while her arm circle’s the elder Earp’s waist.  
  
Wynonna smirks, winking at her. “Hey, sisters will always keep each other’s secrets from their mothers. It’s what we do.”  
  
Waverly laughs and nods, and then the two start the slow march back to the house where Mama and Nicole are waiting for them. They support each other as they go, because that is what sisters do.


	18. Chapter 18

“Say you didn’t. Say you did not give up Wyatt Earp’s gun.”  
  
There are cuts on Waverly’s palms, tears in her skin from desperately digging through the brush pile Wynonna was trapped in only moments ago. The cuts sting, but Waverly only holds her sister closer to her. Her heart is still racing in her chest, beating furiously from the fear of not finding her in time and then the utter relief that Wynonna’s still alive. She waits along with the others, waits for Wynonna to tell Doc off. She’s Wynonna Earp, of course she didn’t give up Peacemaker.  
  
Except her sister remains silent. Wynonna holds Doc’s stare for a long moment and then her eyes drop. Waverly feels her press harder into her shoulder, and her grip around the elder Earp tightens.  
  
Nobody makes a sound as the shock of this silent revelation ripples through them. There aren’t even any birds around to fill in the heavy silence. A breeze blows through the trees, and all they hear is the soft groaning of trees and branches rubbing against each other and the heavy thudding of their hearts in their chests.  
  
Finally Nicole breaks the silence.  
  
“We need to get out of here,” she tells them, her voice low. She rises from where she’s been crouching between Doc and Jeremy, already scanning the area around them. “Who knows where Bulshar is right now, or when he’ll be back.”  
  
“Uh yeah, we should probably definitely get out of here,” Jeremy agrees quickly, popping up next to her. Doc just continues to stare at Wynonna who still can’t look at any of them until Nicole grabs the shoulder of his jacket and gives it a little tug, and then he’s rising as well.  
  
Waverly tucks a strand of hair behind Wynonna’s ear.  
  
“Come on,” she murmurs to her sister, “They’re right, we should go.”  
  
Wynonna says nothing but follows Waverly up out of the snow. The younger Earp never lets go of her, just wraps one arm around her sister’s waist and holds onto her arm with the other.  
  
Nicole leads the way, following the tracks the three of them just made. Jeremy falls into place right behind her but Doc waits, nodding to Waverly and still watching Wynonna, so Waverly guides her sister after them and lets Doc take up the rear. As they walk Waverly glances over at Wynonna every few seconds, terrified by how quiet she’s being. She won’t even meet her eyes, is doing nothing other than staring at the ground ahead of them, and Waverly can feel the panic beginning to grow again in her gut. She squashes it down because she doesn’t have time for it, but still she feels it fizzling just below the surface.  
  
They’ve only been walking for a few minutes when Nicole and then Jeremy stops right in front of them, and Waverly very nearly bumps into them. Her grip on her sister tightens but she looks at the two ahead of them, unsure why they’ve stopped until she looks around her girlfriend and then it’s entirely clear.  
  
“Bobo,” Nicole just says, frowning as she stares at the man still tied to the tree straight ahead of them. She’s not sure why, but Waverly half expected him to be gone. Or at least, she would have if she’d even spared him a second thought since he told them about Wynonna.  
  
“Oh right, him.” Jeremy scratches the back of his head and then looks around their group. “Guess it was too much to hope that Bulshar woulda made him disappear before we got back here, huh?”  
  
A sharp growl breaks behind Waverly, and then Doc is passing the rest of their group to stalk up to the tree Bobo is restrained against. He moves too quickly for Waverly to get a very good look at him, but she’s pretty sure his eyes are glowing gold now and she unintentionally squeezes Wynonna closer to her.  
  
“Bobo Del Rey,” Doc growls, stalking up to the tree. He doesn’t stop until he’s directly in front of the other man, mere inches separating them. “I should tear out your throat right here and now.”  
  
Bobo’s head cocks to the side, not looking intimidated in the least.  
  
“John Henry Holliday,” he coos, one corner of his mouth tugging up. “What’s up, Doc?” He tries for a flourish of the wrist despite the rope binding him in place and points to the group behind him. “I see your friends here were able to save you from Bulshar. For now.” He looks over Doc’s shoulder and his eyes lock onto Wynonna, and Waverly shifts, suddenly feeling like she needs to protect her sister just from his look. Bobo’s eyes flick over her and Waverly sees an immediate understanding flash across his face. “I told you. It never ends. We all give up. And now so have you.”  
  
His voice is uncharacteristically soft, and Wynonna shifts against Waverly, nearly pulling away as her head turns and her eyes shut. Waverly doesn’t let her go, only tightens her hold around her sister’s waist.  
  
“We don’t give up, Bobo,” she tells him firmly. “It will end. We’ll take Bulshar down.”  
  
His gaze shifts over to her, pity pooling into the lines of his furrowed forehead while Wynonna just stands silently beside her. “My angel. Always so optimistic.”  
  
“Yeah, I am.” She turns her attention to Doc. “Doc, get him, we’ll take him back with us. Maybe he knows something about Bulshar’s plan that can help us.”  
  
“Uh, Waves, you sure you want to do that?” Jeremy asks, throwing her a look before glancing back to the demon still tied to the tree. “I mean, he’s looking even crazier now than before, and he’s always been kinda ‘one flew over the cuckoo’s nest’ insane.”  
  
“If there’s even a chance he can help us then we need him,” she insists, and Nicole steps forward.  
  
“She’s right,” she agrees, moving over to the tree and the two men by it. “If Bulshar’s had him this long then there’s a good chance we can use him.” She circles around the tree and uses the hatchet she’s still carrying to cut Bobo free, but before he can do more than take a step forward Doc’s hand is around the revenant’s throat.  
  
“If you try to harm any of us I will not hesitate to send you back to hell, and I will not require any gun to do it.” Waverly can see the tension in his shoulders, watches as Bobo grabs at his wrist, and feels a shiver travel down her spine.  
  
Despite the fact that his face is beginning to turn red from lack of oxygen, Bobo’s brow raises. “There’s something different about you.” His eyes flicker over Doc’s face. “New moustache?”  
  
Doc snarls, loudly enough that it makes Waverly jump and Jeremy take a step back, but neither Nicole nor Wynonna react. Doc’s lips peel back to show his fangs, and to Waverly’s surprise Bobo just starts giggling.  
  
“Uh oh, looks like our dear Doc’s made some new friends.” He grins and pats Doc’s wrist. “Maybe we should be calling you Count Docula now.” He giggles again at his own joke. Waverly’s sure Doc is half a second from sinking his teeth into his neck when Nicole steps forward again, grabbing Bobo by the back of his jacket and yanking him out of Doc’s grip.  
  
“That’s enough outta you.” She wraps the ropes securely around his wrists, binding them together and leaving just enough rope free for her to keep a grip on, and then gives it a little yank. “We need to go.”  
  
“Oo, bossy bossy,” Bobo singsongs, and then throws a look over to Waverly. “I can see why you like her. I guess redheads really do do it better.”  
  
Doc snarls again at him, but Waverly just ignores him and instead looks at Nicole. Her girlfriend is already looking at her, as though she’s waiting for Waverly’s permission to keep going, and the younger Earp gives it with just a fraction of a nod. Nicole returns it and then sets off once again, tugging Bobo behind her hard enough that he takes a stumbling step forward before righting himself and following after her. This time Doc steps into place behind them, never taking his eyes off of Bobo, and the two Earp sisters and Jeremy bring up the rear.  
  
They don’t stop again until they’re stepping out of the trees and onto the side of the road. Nicole has managed to lead them back to the cars, and Waverly almost lets out a sigh of relief the moment she sees them. She is more than ready to leave this place behind them and go back to somewhere safe.  
  
“So… what now?” Jeremy asks the question on everyone’s mind, and they all glance over at Wynonna. She doesn’t look at any of them, still hasn’t said a word and Waverly feels her throat closing up in fear. She swallows past it, and stands up a little straighter.  
  
If her sister can’t take charge right now, then she’s just going to have to.  
  
“Jeremy, you and Doc take Bobo back to the police station,” she tells them, nodding to the revenant that’s now grinning at her. “We can keep him in the box we used for Widow Mercedes, he shouldn’t be able to break out of that.” She glances over at her sister and bites her lip, but then looks over at her girlfriend. “Nicole and I will take Wynonna back to the homestead.”  
  
Nicole nods and Doc steps forward to take Bobo’s rope from her, but Jeremy hesitates. “Yeah, uh, you really think that’s a good idea?” he asks, and then moves closer to Waverly and mutters, “You can’t leave me alone with them! One’s a revenant who can move metal with his mind, and the other’s a vampire who may I remind you bit my boyfriend!”  
  
Guilt flashes across Doc’s face but he doesn’t say anything, just takes Bobo’s restraints and leads him to the back of Jeremy’s car. As he pops the trunk, Waverly flashes Jeremy what she hopes is a reassuring smile.  
  
“Doc’s not going to hurt you, Jeremy. And you’re going to want him there to help you get Bobo into the station.”  
  
He still doesn’t look convinced, so Nicole moves over to him, laying a hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze.  
  
“Once I get Waverly and Wynonna back to the homestead, I’ll come to the station to help you,” she promises. “Until then, you just need to trust that Doc won’t hurt you.”  
  
“Which I will not do,” Doc assures him, looking up from where he’s just settled Bobo into the trunk. He slams it shut, and then walks back over to them, holding his hands up in front of him. “I am aware I made a grave mistake with Robin, and for that Jeremy I am truly sorry, but please believe that I would never harm you.”  
  
Jeremy scowls at him for a drawn out moment, but then he shakes his head. “Okay, fine, whatever. We’ll take Bobo back to the station together.” He turns and begins to make his way to the driver’s side but then pauses and glares at Doc over his shoulder. “But that doesn’t mean I trust you, or forgive you.”  
  
Doc just nods even as he frowns and Waverly bites her lip again, glancing between them and then over at her sister. Their little family has been broken, it’s slowly coming apart at the seams and she doesn’t know what to do about it. Right now though her first priority has to be her sister, so she ignores Doc and Jeremy and leads Wynonna to Nicole’s cruiser. Quickly she opens the back door and Wynonna slips inside without a word, sliding across to the far side of the car, and Waverly feels a pang of anguish ignite inside her as she watches her sister curl up into herself.  
  
She should slide right in after Wynonna, but instead Waverly turns back around. Nicole is standing by the driver’s-side door, watching her worriedly, but Waverly only reaches out and gives her hand a squeeze before hurrying back over to Jeremy’s car. Doc is just about to slide into the passenger’s seat but she grabs his arm.  
  
“Wait, Doc,” she says hurriedly, and he turns to her, eyes quickly scanning her face. “Please, I need to know what happened to her. What did Bulshar do to my sister?” She’s terrified of the answer, aware it had to be something horrendous to turn Wynonna Earp into the silent shell of a person huddled in the backseat of Nicole’s cruiser, but she needs to know.  
  
Doc glances over her shoulder, staring at the open door Wynonna just disappeared through. He’s quiet for a moment and Waverly scans his face, watching as his jaw clenches.  
  
“He killed her,” he finally answers quietly, his voice low, and Waverly swears her heart stops. “Over and over again. And I have no idea how many times. Every time she died she had to start back at the beginning.” He lets out a long, pained sigh and shakes his head, and Waverly notices how his eyes darken as he remembers it. “When killing her didn’t work, Bulshar moved on to killing us.” He’s still holding the car door with one hand, and his grip on it tightens. “I guess that finally did it.”  
  
“No…” Waverly murmurs, one hand shooting up to her mouth. She shakes her head, not wanting to imagine any of what he just told her, but the images form in her mind anyway. He just stares at her sadly before looking back towards the cruiser.  
  
“She can’t give up, Waverly. With or without Peacemaker, Wynonna Earp cannot give up this battle. We all need her still. But right now what she needs is you. She needs her sister.”  
  
“She’s got me,” Waverly tells him, hands curling into fists as they drop back to her sides. “She’s always had me.”  
  
He grabs her elbow, squeezes it, and then slides into the passenger’s seat and pulls the door shut behind him. Jeremy flashes Waverly what is supposed to be an encouraging smile that definitely misses the mark, and then the two of them are off, heading back to Purgatory with Bobo Del Rey stuffed in the trunk.  
  
A hand takes hers - the one without the magic ring stuck to her finger - and Waverly turns to find Nicole behind her. The smile she gives is much more successfully reassuring. “It’s going to be okay, Waves. We’ll get her home, then we’ll come up with a plan and we’ll take down Bulshar. We will.”  
  
Waverly grips her hand and lets the corners of her mouth pull up just a little. “I know we will. We have to.” Nicole nods and then reaches up with her free hand, cupping her cheek lightly, and leans forward to press a quick kiss to her lips. It’s soft and warm, just enough to get the butterflies in her stomach to beat back her fear for a moment, and it’s all the reassurance Waverly needs. When Nicole pulls away her smile is more genuine, and she rushes forward to press another quick peck against her girlfriend’s mouth.  
  
“Come on,” she says when she pulls away, already taking a few steps towards the cruiser, “Let’s get Wynonna home.”  
  
“Mm,” Nicole agrees, and they both move towards the car. Nicole takes her place in the driver’s seat, but instead of moving over to the passenger’s side Waverly slides into the back, tugging the door shut behind her. Wynonna’s head is resting against the window, but when Waverly pushes up beside her the elder Earp turns and buries her head into Waverly’s shoulder. The younger sister begins to run her fingers through her hair, catching every now and then on a snarl or twig, but Wynonna doesn’t make so much as a peep as the car pulls away from the woods and onto the road.  
  
As the car continues in the direction of the homestead, Wynonna doesn’t lift her head from her sister’s shoulder. Her eyes are clenched shut, and she’s trying desperately not to think. Not about the fact that she now knows how it feels to die in a car accident - though in Bulshar’s mind games, she wasn’t even in a car, so she supposes that was more of a hit and run - or about the fact that they’re all royally screwed because of her. She tries to pretend she can’t still feel the phantom dirt caked under her nails from digging her own sister’s grave. Pretends she can’t hear Waverly and Doc’s screams echoing in her head over and over and over. She keeps her eyes closed and wishes she could forget it all, every second, maybe even forget who she is and everyone around her, even just for a few hours. Exhaustion has carved itself into her bones and left her entire body feeling like lead, and all she wants is to lie down and never get up, but she’s too afraid that if she does she will only wake up again on the basement floor of Shorty’s. She shivers at the thought, and her fingernails bite into her palms as her hands curl into fists.  
  
She failed. She failed and she knows it, and that knowledge has been pumping through her ever since the moment Bulshar stood in front of her and all she could do was curl into herself as the screams of the people she loves broke through her defenses as though they were made from the thinnest sheets of ice. She’ll never know just how long she fought, how long she managed to hold out against Bulshar’s mind games, but it doesn’t matter because in the end he won. He wanted Peacemaker, and she just handed it over to him without a fight.  
  
“It’s gonna be okay, Wynonna,” she hears Waverly whisper into her hair, “I promise. It’s gonna be okay. We’ll figure this out.”  
  
_No_ , she wants to say, _No, it isn’t. He’s won, but you’ll be safe. He promised. He promised._  
  
“What would Bulshar want with Peacemaker?” Nicole muses from the front of the car. Wynonna doesn’t look up, but it isn’t hard to picture the way her brow is probably furrowed as she stares at the road. “What does he need with a gun, even that one?”  
  
Waverly’s shoulder shrugs beneath her head, but her sister doesn’t answer.  
  
“It’s the Tower,” Wynonna answers, and she knows that they all must be able to hear just how tired she is from her voice. It’s the first words she’s said since waking up in her sister’s arms in the middle of the woods, and she can feel Waverly’s surprise in how she stiffens. “He’s gonna use it to get into the Garden.”  
  
She can feel the ripple effect her words have on them despite the silence that follows them. There’s a sudden tension in the car that didn’t exist a moment ago, weaving into the unease that had already filled the air. The quiet grows, almost suffocating them, until Nicole mutters, “Well shit.”  
  
“Yeah.” Wynonna still doesn’t open her eyes, doesn’t want to see the fear or blame that could so easily be directed at her. Waverly’s fingers had stilled in their movements but now they go back to threading through her hair, and guilt fills Wynonna’s chest as the motion actually helps her to relax, even just a fraction. She doesn’t deserve it, not after basically sealing the world’s fate by giving Bulshar exactly what he needed to fuck them all over, but she sinks into it nevertheless.  
  
Nobody talks after that. Maybe they’re all too afraid to speak, or maybe the truth of it all is still sinking in, but the silence settles once again. Wynonna pretends to sleep in the hopes it might actually be possible, but far too soon she can feel the car slowing down and turning, and she knows without having to look that they’ve arrived at the homestead. Bile that tastes like terror builds up in the back of her throat, but there’s no swallowing it down so she just forces herself to ignore it. The car stops completely and she hears Nicole turn off the ignition, and finally she sits up and opens her eyes.  
  
There are no graves in the driveway, or anywhere in front of the house, but even so Wynonna can see them in her mind’s eye. Her hands feel dirty again and clench tighter, tiny droplets of blood now welling up around her fingernails. Nicole is the first to get out of the car and it’s clear that Waverly is going to wait for her, so Wynonna pretends not to be affected, hopes her terror doesn’t show in her face, and for the first time pulls away from her sister as she shoves her door open and steps out into the driveway. Waverly is right behind her, Wynonna can feel her nervous glances boring into the back of her head, but she ignores it. Nicole begins to walk towards the porch, but her own focus settles on the barn instead of the house, and Wynonna swallows thickly before making her way towards it. Out of the corner of her eye she can see the confusion on Nicole’s face but she changes direction easily, both of the other women following her without a word.  
  
Her heart beats rapidly in her chest, so fast that she begins to feel light-headed, but Wynonna doesn’t stop. Even with Waverly and Nicole here this all feels real in the same way Bulshar’s tricks felt real, and suddenly she’s aware that she has no way of knowing the truth anymore. Maybe she really is at the homestead, but maybe this has all been just one more level of Bulshar toying with her and messing with her head. She’s now walked into this barn so many times to find Bobo waiting for her there that it doesn’t matter that he was tied to a tree and then stuffed into the trunk of Jeremy’s car the last time she saw him, she fully expects him to be inside once again.  
  
“Wynonna, what-” she hears Waverly say behind her and then feels her hand settle gently on her shoulder, but Wynonna shrugs it off. Her entire attention is on the door to the barn, closed just like every other time Bulshar led her here, and apparently Waverly recognizes that because she doesn’t try to finish her sentence. There’s a gardening hoe leaning up against the wall beside the door - that isn’t right, it was always just _inside_ the door, the detail is different this time - and she grabs it, the smooth wood hard beneath her palms. She knows what it feels like to break this hoe in two, how much force it takes to jam each broken end into Bobo’s sides, and her grip on it shifts nervously. One hand rests lightly against the door handle for a second as she builds up her nerve, and then without warning Wynonna throws the door open and steps inside.  
  
The space is empty. Or rather, the space is empty of Bobo. There’s still hay and some old warn farm tools, and Doc’s old bed still rests in its place along the far wall, but nobody is inside waiting for her. Even so she doesn’t relax, just stands stiffly as she quickly scans the space.  
  
Again a hand falls to her shoulder, and Wynonna actually jumps but doesn’t turn around.  
  
“It’s okay, Wynonna,” Waverly murmurs, rubbing her thumb gently against her shoulder. “You’re safe now. He doesn’t have you anymore. I promise.”  
  
Would Bulshar make her sister make that promise? Probably, but even so Wynonna drops the hoe, a dull _thud_ heard as it hits the frozen ground. Waverly’s grip on her tightens just a little and Wynonna lets her sister pull her back out of the barn, not fighting it as she continues just as softly, “Come on, let’s get you inside sweetie.”  
  
Wynonna sinks into her sister’s side, the exhaustion once again hitting her, and she doesn’t even realize she’s limping now. Waverly and Nicole both do and for a second Nicole hovers nearby, wondering if she should move to the older woman’s free side to help the Earps, but decides to walk ahead of them instead. She opens the door for them as they slowly hobble up the porch, and then she’s helping Waverly pull Wynonna’s coat off of her and hang it up, still eyeing over Wynonna worriedly.  
  
The eldest Earp attempts a half-hearted smirk. “You’re undressing the wrong sister there, Haught Shot. Don’t get me wrong, I get why you’d wanna get into these Haught pockets, but you’re just not my type. You’re still a little too narc-y for me.”  
  
Nicole grins and then fakes a wince. “Damn, you really must have gone through some stuff. Definitely not one of your better lines.” She bumps her hip against Wynonna’s. “And your type is tough and muscular, usually with a bad attitude that can at least attempt to keep up with you while you’re drinking.” She smirks. “The only thing on that list I’m missing is the bad attitude.”  
  
Wynonna lets out a quiet chuckle and raises an eyebrow. “Quit flirting with me in front of Waverly. I don’t know if you know this but your girlfriend gets jealous pretty easily.” She leans more heavily against Waverly whose shaking her head, a small smile tugging at her mouth.  
  
“Come on,” she says, ignoring their conversation, “let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”  
  
“Whatever you say, baby girl,” Wynonna agrees, putting up no kind of resistance as her sister leads them all into the living room. She guides Wynonna to her chair and carefully lowers her into it, and the moment she feels the cushion beneath her Wynonna swears her entire body gives out. She sinks against it, every ounce of energy she’s been clinging to instantly disappearing.  
  
Once she’s settled, Waverly straightens up and takes a step back, never taking her eyes off of her. “How do you feel? Do you need anything?”  
  
Wynonna visibly shivers and one corner of her mouth quirks up in a tired smile. “A few of the dozens of blankets you have up on your bed might be nice. Maybe it’s just me, but it’s so cold in here you could see a witch’s nipples.”  
  
“You’re probably in shock,” Nicole tells her as she leans forward and places the back of her hand against Wynonna’s forehead. Wynonna makes a face and swats it away but doesn’t say anything, and Waverly’s already nodding.  
  
“Yeah, of course I can get you some blankets, no problem,” she agrees. Glancing over at Nicole, she asks, “Stay with her til I get back?”  
  
“Hey, I don’t need a babysitter,” Wynonna grumbles, but neither of them are listening to her anymore.  
  
Nicole nods. “Yeah sure, no problem.” She looks over at the fireplace. “I’ll even get a fire started for you, try to warm up the house a little too.” Waverly flashes her a thankful smile, turns one more worried look towards her sister, and then backs out of the room and rushes up the stairs.  
  
With her girlfriend gone, the sheriff turns towards the fireplace and begins grabbing kindling from the box beside it and arranging it around the partially burned log already inside. Wynonna waits until Waverly is out of sight and then sits up a little straighter, her brow furrowing.  
  
“Haught. I need you to do something for me.”  
  
“Hold on, let me get this fire going and then I’ll get you some whiskey,” Nicole replies, but Wynonna shakes her head.  
  
“No, that’s not what I need.” She rethinks those words, and then corrects herself. “Okay, so it’s always what I need, but not what I need to talk to you about right now.”  
  
Something in her voice must get to Nicole, because she pauses in her work, turning around and frowning as she takes in Wynonna’s serious expression. “Okay,” she says slowly, still crouched down beside the fireplace. “What’s up?”  
  
“You remember what you asked me to do when Widow Mercedes bit you and you were dying? It’s my turn to ask the same favor.”  
  
The redhead’s eyes widen, shock flickering across her face as her jaw drops open just a little. She shakes her head slowly. “I don’t… I don’t get it. What? Why?”  
  
Wynonna’s head drops back against the back of her chair, and she grips its arms hard enough for her knuckles to turn white.  
  
“You knew Waverly wouldn’t be able to make that call if things got bad with you. Worse, with you. She won’t be able to make this call either.”  
  
“What call? Wynonna, what are you talking about?”  
  
“He beat me. Bulshar beat me.” The words come out hard, low, and Wynonna’s grip on the chair tightens. “He’s proven he can control me, make me do something I’d never do if it wasn’t for his bullshit mind games. He’s got Peacemaker, so maybe he’s done with me, but maybe he’s not.” A black hole of fear widens in her chest as she puts voice to the thought that has been playing inside her head ever since she handed Peacemaker over. “If he isn’t, I don’t want to be his pawn. I don’t want to turn into one of his little beekeeper puppet creeps.”  
  
Nicole shakes her head again, leaning forward. “Wynonna, you won’t. No way.”  
  
“You’re right,” Wynonna cuts in before she can say anything else. She holds Nicole’s stare as she continues, “Because if that does happen, if it looks like he has me, you’re gonna kill me. You’re gonna take your gun and put a bullet right between my eyes.”  
  
“Wynonna-” Nicole begins, a puff of air coming out with the name, but the older woman doesn’t let her say anything else.  
  
“It’s gotta be you, Nicole. Jeremy couldn’t hit the barn if he was standing two feet from it, and Doc won’t do it. And Waverly-” Her throat suddenly burns as emotion tinges her voice, and Wynonna has to blink a couple of times to keep the dampness she can feel forming in her eyes from falling. “I don’t want her to ever know what it feels like to have to kill your sister. Ever.”  
  
“She’d never do it,” Nicole says, her voice barely more than a whisper, and Wynonna nods.  
  
“I know. That’s why it’s gotta be you.” She gives a half-hearted shrug, attempting a smirk but missing the usual playfulness that goes along with it. “It’s like you said, you’re the only one she might forgive. It’s gotta be you, Nicole. Please.”  
  
Nicole’s eyes scan her face and Wynonna doesn’t look away, doesn’t give in. It’s still, this moment growing between them, and neither of them says anything. Only a moment later they hear movement at the top of the stairs, and Nicole notices the slight panic and plea that grows in Wynonna’s expression. Even as her gut sinks, the officer nods.  
  
“Okay,” she agrees in a whisper, “I promise. I’ll do it.”  
  
The panic in Wynonna’s expression shifts to relief, and the tension that had built along her shoulders releases. “Thank you,” she mouths silently as Waverly bounds down the stairs.  
  
“Okay, I grabbed a bunch,” the younger Earp states as she enters the room. “Wasn’t sure exactly what you’d want. What happened to the fire?”  
  
“Eh, I’ve been trying to get Red-Haught-Chili-Pepper over here to get me a bottle of whiskey instead,” Wynonna answers without hesitation, turning towards her sister and rolling her eyes. “I keep telling her that’ll warm me up from the inside, but she keeps telling me whiskey isn’t the solution to everything.” She hooks her thumb up over her shoulder towards Nicole. “I mean really Waves, it’s like she doesn’t even know me. Whiskey has literally solved all my problems.”  
  
“Mm, I think it’s caused an awful lot of problems too,” Waverly suggests, trying to hold back a little smile as she drops the pile of blankets she’s holding on her sister’s lap. She flashes that smile at Nicole, adding, “And she’s right Wynonna, you need blankets and a fire, that’s what’s going to really warm you up.”  
  
As they talk Nicole turns back towards the fireplace, working once again to get said fire started.  
  
“Ugh, fine,” Wynonna groans, picking distractedly through the blankets now on her lap. “But can’t I have some whiskey to go along with the blankets and fire? I mean, really, every little bit counts right?”  
  
Waverly shakes her head but her smile grows against her will. “Fine, you wrap up in some blankets while Nicole starts the fire and I’ll get you the whiskey.” Wynonna jerks her head towards her, a movement that at least resembles a nod, and Waverly heads into the kitchen.  
  
Soon there’s a half full bottle of whiskey in her hand and flames flicker in the fireplace, and Nicole stands up, dusting off her hands against her pants.  
  
“I should probably be going,” she says, “Jeremy is probably flipping out, being alone with Bobo and Doc.”  
  
“That’s probably a good idea,” Waverly agrees. She turns to walk Nicole out but as the officer steps across the room, she stops briefly by Wynonna’s chair.  
  
“You’re wrong, Earp,” she murmurs, not caring that Wynonna doesn’t look at her. “He didn’t beat you. And he’s not going to.”  
  
Wynonna doesn’t respond, just closes her eyes, and Nicole continues the rest of the way to the door with Waverly following her. There’s a blanket on Wynonna’s lap with the rest of the pile on the floor beside her, and her head once again leans against the back of her chair, too tired to do anything else but half-heartedly listen as her sister and Nicole talk softly at the door for another minute. She shifts but the chair almost feels too comfortable, and soon she ends up cross-legged on the floor, dragging a few pillows down with her. She takes a long haul off of the whiskey, and then sets the bottle down beside her.  
  
No matter how hard she tries not to think about it, her mind continually ends up back on Bulshar and Peacemaker, and soon she’s fishing the tarot card she got from her reading with Kate the day before out of her back pocket.  
  
Of course that still happened to be on her while Bulshar threw his own special game night in her brain. Why wouldn’t it be?  
  
The front door closes, and Waverly comes back into the room but Wynonna doesn’t look up. Her sister must wonder what she’s doing on the floor but she doesn’t question it, just grabs one of the blankets from the pile by the chair and joins her. Wynonna can see her watching her at the periphery of her vision, and notices the oven mitt she’s now wearing on one hand. When that was added to her wardrobe she entirely missed, but Wynonna decides not to question that either, and for a few minutes neither of them say anything.  
  
“Nicole’s right, you know.” Waverly breaks the silence. “He didn’t beat you.” She looks away and then back again. “Maybe Bulshar knows that you’ve got the best chance of any Earp heir to end the curse, so he cheated.”  
  
“He doesn’t care about the curse,” Wynonna tells her, finally looking up from the card. “And he didn’t cheat. He beat me.” Again her eyes flicker back to the card for just a moment. “He needs the Tower to get into the Garden. He has it.” He has it because she gave it to him, and she just manages to hold in a defeated sigh as she turns to stare into the fire. “We have nothing left to fight him with.”  
  
“We have us,” Waverly reminds her softly, that ever-present optimism of hers rearing up and Wynonna almost scoffs.  
  
“An almost alcoholic MILF, an unreliable vampire, an underfunded sheriff.” She shakes her head. “At least you’re still pretty great.” Wynonna sighs. “At least things can’t get any worse.”  
  
TV and media - and honestly just her life - should really have taught her by now never to challenge the universe like that. Waverly removes the oven mitt she still hasn’t bothered to question and holds up her hand.  
  
“This is stuck to my finger.”  
  
_This_ is a big gaudy ring, and one that Wynonna easily recognizes.  
  
“Bulshar’s ring?”  
  
“Mm, well actually Bobo said…” Waverly trails off, staring at the ring, and Wynonna waits impatiently for her to finish the sentence.  
  
“What?” she asks when her very limited patience runs out. She really doesn’t think she can take anymore today, especially of anything Bobo said, but now she needs to know. She reaches forward to grab her sister’s hand to get a better look at the ring, but before she can touch her Waverly yanks her hand back.  
  
“No!” she gasps, “No. I melted a face.” Wynonna just gives her a look and Waverly returns it with a barely existent shrug. “Yeah, okay, a demon face, sure, but I can’t control it.”  
  
Wynonna could remind Waverly that she was holding her the entire way back to the homestead and didn’t melt her face off, but she doesn’t. “Okay,” she just says instead as the younger Earp shoves the mitt back on. Clearly she’s exhausted, as that kind of information really should warrant a bigger response, but she just doesn’t have the energy for it right now. “That’s worse.”  
  
Yep, shoudn’t’ve challenged the universe. Dumb move on her part, way to go Wynonna.  
  
The universe isn’t going to take away Waverly’s positivity though.  
  
“Look, we know where he’s going. Okay? We’ll… take the fight to him, at the stairs.” She tries for a little smile, but Wynonna just gives her a look.  
  
“Stairs?” She has no idea what stairs her sister is talking about, or maybe she’s just too tired to remember. Reality and Bulshar’s universe are melding together weirdly for her, so the only stairs she can think of are the ones in Shorty’s basement. She’d rather stay away from there for a little while if she can help it.  
  
“The ones that supposedly lead to the Garden where he planted you and Doc,” Waverly tells her, as though this is something she should know.  
  
Wynonna frowns, forcing her mind to wander back to the woods, but no matter how hard she tries to remember them, she doesn’t see them. “No, I didn’t see any stairs.”  
  
Waverly’s brow furrows and her head tilts a little, clearly confused, and then it’s her turn to look at the fire. “Oh.”  
  
The soft crackle of the flames fills the silence for a second while Wynonna studies her sister, and then she gives a little shake of her head. “Maybe they can only be seen by the righteous.” She reaches out and this time Waverly doesn’t stop her as she takes her sister’s mitten-clad hand. “By those who are good.”  
  
It would make sense; Waverly’s as good as a person can get, and Wynonna knows she certainly isn’t.  
  
Her sister clearly disagrees.  
  
“You’re not just good, Wynonna,” she tells her, “You’re my sister.” She gives her a look that just says, “Uh, hello?” with a playful grin, and Wynonna feels the edges of her mouth twitch before a soft laugh actually breaks loose. Another follows from Waverly.  
  
“You’re a freakin’ angel and you can’t get this off?” Wynonna says, lifting up the hand within the oven mitt.  
  
She can feel more laughter rising to the surface as Waverly looks at it, fighting back her own laughter and quickly losing. “And I might need to wear a Niagra Falls oven mitten… forever! Cause all it does is hurt people!”  
  
That does it; Wynonna loses control and the quiet laughter bubbles up, and the next second she’s leaning over her sister’s lap, shaking with it. It shouldn’t be funny - really isn’t funny - but after everything that has happened today she can’t hold it back. Maybe it’s just her body detoxing all of the terror and guilt that has piled up in her chest or maybe she’s just so exhausted that all her body knows how to do is laugh, but she doesn’t fight it. Waverly laughs right along with her, her cheeks pulling back into a wide smile, and despite the fact that everything has gone to shit around them the two sisters laugh together and don’t try to fight it.  
  
There’s enough of a fight waiting for them tomorrow; they might as well take the opportunity to laugh now while they still can.


	19. Chapter 19

“If it’s the only way to stop Bulshar.”  
  
“It won’t be.”  
  
“If it was you that could save us-”  
  
“I will.”  
  
“-you’d sacrifice yourself in a heartbeat! In a heartbeat to save the world. To save me.”  
  
“Yeah. But this time… this time, this one time… I’m gonna be selfish as hell. I’ve been through some shit, baby girl. Some shit that brought me so low, I didn’t think I’d ever see the light again. You’re the one thing that keeps me going. You’re the light, Waverly. So I know it can’t be true ‘cause even my destiny can’t be this cruel.”  
  
Can it be this cruel? After years of fighting it, Wynonna has accepted that she is the Earp heir. She has accepted that she is the one tasked with breaking the curse and freeing her family and she’s supposed to be the one to stop Bulshar. She’s even accepted the fact that she’ll probably die trying to stop him. Bulshar will kill her - for real this time - but honestly that’s okay. Maybe it’s just her turn.  
  
But not Waverly. She’s not ready to let all this bullshit take her sister. No freaking way.  
  
For a long time the sisters sit in silence. At one point Waverly gets a fire going and then she’s still again and only the crackling of the flames in the mantle breaks the quiet. Wynonna clutches a bottle of whiskey that’s almost completely full, but she can’t bring herself to lift it to her lips. She’s on the floor leaning back against the couch, a thin blanket covering her lap, and Waverly’s beside her, the steady and warm presence Wynonna knows she doesn’t deserve but wouldn’t be able to live without, and the thought that the universe could be doing this makes her want to scream. She wants to rip and kick and claw, to fight until her knuckles bleed and her nails have been ripped from their nail beds. Fuck the universe if it thinks she’s going to let it take away the one good thing she’s managed to protect and hold onto her entire life. She’s been fighting against this stupid curse ever since Willa was pulled through that window, and now when she’s ready to sacrifice herself to it, it wants to take her little sister instead?  
  
Hell no. Wynonna would rather watch the world burn.  
  
Outside though; outside the world is getting ready to burn. It’s late now, probably creeping close to midnight, and the sun is still shining high in the sky, casting an eerie light that just feels wrong. The hair along Wynonna’s arms has been standing on end for hours now, and she’s pretty sure it’s due to more than just the terrifying thoughts that have been circling over and over again in her mind. Everything feels still, as though the entire world is holding its breath and waiting to see what they’re going to do, and it is all weighing like an anvil on her chest. It’s hard to breathe under the weight of it all, but Wynonna isn’t sure she’s actually been able to take a breath ever since Kevin told them what Waverly will have to do if they want to stop Bulshar. How exactly does anyone expect Wynonna to just stand back and let this happen?  
  
“Truth or dare?”  
  
It’s been so quiet for so long, the two sisters each lost in their own thoughts, that Wynonna jumps. The words yank her out of her own head, bringing her crashing back to reality and the room around her. The fire is still flickering in the mantle and trying to cast long shadows across the room, though they should be so much longer at this time of night. It’s strange that it’s that subtle difference that makes a chill run down her spine but Wynonna ignores it and looks over at Waverly. Her sister is staring into the flames, entirely still, and for a second the elder Earp wonders if she’s started to hear things.  
  
“What?” she asks, eyes skimming across Waverly’s face. Her voice cracks from disuse.  
  
“Truth or dare?” her little sister just repeats softly as she stares into the fire, and Wynonna’s brow furrows even as she realizes she hasn’t gone crazy.  
  
She hasn’t played this game since Willa died - the first time - and the old familiar words twist at her heart. Wynonna’s lip creeps between her teeth without her noticing and her stomach drops but she doesn’t immediately dismiss the game.  
  
With Willa, there was always only one answer to that question. Now rather than give it immediately, Wynonna pauses. She and Willa were always challenging each other, always trying to prove who was better. Wynonna knows that Waverly is better than her in every sense, so there’s no point pretending otherwise. She has spent her life facing challenges and closing herself off from the world, and if there’s one person who doesn’t deserve to be shut out any longer it’s Waverly. So she doesn’t.  
  
“Truth,” she says, and it surprises both of them just how quiet, how almost vulnerable the one word comes out.  
  
There’s silence again for a minute, Waverly likely thrown by her answer. Wynonna’s actually nervous as she waits, wondering exactly what her little sister wants to know about her. In most ways Waverly already knows her better than anyone else, but being open like this to anything she asks already has Wynonna’s heart beating a little faster than normal. Her grip on the whiskey bottle tightens, but still she doesn’t drink.  
  
The question finally comes, and it isn’t at all what she’s expecting. “What was your favorite thing about Greece?” Waverly looks over at her as she asks it, and Wynonna sees the genuine curiosity and interest on her baby sister’s face. For some reason her pulse slows down a bit and she relaxes just a little.  
  
She doesn’t have to think about her answer. “Nobody ever stared at me.” One corner of her mouth turns up into a small smirk and she corrects herself. “I mean, sure, sometimes people stared because really, how could they not?” She gestures to herself and wiggles her eyebrows, which makes Waverly’s lips twitch too as she shakes her head. The next second Wynonna lets the joke drop and she’s staring off in front of her, not really looking at anything. Her brow furrows as she thinks back to her days on the other side of the world.  
  
“Nobody knew me.” Her voice is quiet, soft beneath the crackling of the fire. “They didn’t give two shits who I was, unless they were trying to get in my pants, and then that’s all they cared about. When I told someone my name they didn’t immediately ask if it was _that_ Earp. Nobody looked at me like I was crazy or asked how I felt about shooting my own daddy.” She shrugs, and then she’s speaking just a fraction louder. “I was like everyone else, just a face in the crowd.”  
  
A small laugh bubbles past Waverly’s lips and she raises an eyebrow at her sister. “I don’t think you could ever just be a random face in the crowd, Wynonna. You’re too… Wynonna for that.” Waverly bumps her shoulder lightly with her own, and the two share a look.  
  
“Yeah well, it’s the closest I’ve ever been to it,” her sister tells her, smiling as she shakes her head. “Sure as shit beat the way everyone’s always looked at me here.”  
  
Waverly opens her mouth to say something but must rethink whatever it is because it shuts a second later without anything coming out. Wynonna gives her a moment to see if she’ll decide to say whatever it is she was going to say, but when she doesn’t the elder Earp asks, “Truth or dare?”  
  
Why not continue the game a little longer, see where it takes them? It certainly beats letting the same horrifying thoughts swirl over and over again in her head until she’s sure she can’t take it anymore.  
  
“Truth.” The answer comes with very little hesitation and Wynonna leans back, her head now resting on the couch behind her as she tries to think of something to ask. She isn’t always the most observant person in the world, sure, but she likes to think she knows her sister better than most, so it takes her a minute to think of a question. When one does come to mind, she frowns, not entirely sure she should ask it. Waverly must notice because one eyebrow raises, as though encouraging her, so Wynonna shrugs and just goes for it.  
  
“When you and Pippi Haughtstocking started dating, why didn’t you tell me?” She doesn’t look at her sister, instead shifts her eyes down to the bottle in her hand and taps it gently against the floor just for something to focus on. “Did you think I’d, I don’t know, have a problem with it or something?”  
  
“No, it wasn’t that, not really,” Waverly tells her, and her forehead crinkles as she thinks about it. She leans back until her head is resting against the couch to mirror Wynonna’s, and she frowns up at the ceiling as she tries to find the right words.  
  
“When Nicole and I started dating it was like… like I’d met another part of myself. A part I didn’t really know. I wanted to know that part better before other people could start asking me about it.” She frowns a little, and Wynonna can tell she’s having a hard time putting it into words. “Plus it was right when Willa came back to us and all that went down so. You know, a little crazy.” The corners of her lips twitch up and Wynonna is now watching her, eyes scanning her face. “And it was nice having something that was just between us. I didn’t have to share the relationship with anyone else.” She looks over and meets her sister’s eyes and then gives a little shrug. “Plus back then she didn’t know about all the demon stuff, so keeping us quiet was another way to keep her safe.”  
  
“Hmm,” Wynonna hums in agreement. “I can get that.” She grins then, adding, “Still didn’t stop her from jumping right in when she found out about all our supernatural shit. I’ll deny it if you ever tell her I said this, but I gotta give her props for that. Champ woulda shit his pants and ended up crying in a corner if he’da ever found out about it all.”  
  
A sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff breaks out of Waverly’s chest. “Nicole is absolutely nothing like Champ. She’s a thousand times better. My very best baby.” Her lips curl up into a dopey smile that simultaneously makes Wynonna want to barf and cry because her sister is in love and there’s no one who deserves love more than Waverly. Admitting as much is too mushy even for this feel-good moment they’re having so she just smirks and finally takes a sip of the whiskey. Its burn is all too familiar after years of turning to it probably far more often than she should, but tonight even it isn’t enough to wash away the storm of emotions fighting to control her. She takes another swallow to try to at least push them back.  
  
“What did you ever see in Champ the Chump Hardy anyway?” she asks as she lowers the bottle. It’s in her lap now as she starts to distractedly pick at the label. “Pretty sure I still owe him an ass-kicking for trying to sleep with me while he was still dating you. Asshat.”  
  
“Sorry, you’ve already used up your one question, you’ll have to wait for an answer to that,” Waverly jokes, poking Wynonna’s side with just enough pressure to make it tickle. Her sister makes a face at her but doesn’t pull away, and Waverly pushes closer to her, taking one corner of her blanket and pulling it onto her own lap. “Truth or dare?”  
  
“Truth,” Wynonna replies, the answer coming more easily this time, and it isn’t due to the liquor.  
  
The teasing has completely vacated Waverly’s tone, her voice quiet again as she asks, “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive Doc for letting Kate turn him?”  
  
Wynonna’s brow pulls down into a scowl and she’s suddenly glaring at the bottle in her lap. “Doc Holliday doesn’t _let_ things happen to him. He _chooses_. Becoming a vampire was his _choice_.” The thought stokes the anger that still burns over the whole thing in her chest, but at least now it isn’t so strong that all she can think about is hunting Sexy Kate down and staking the blood-sucking bitch. Bitter disappointment creeps up to burn the back of her throat, but she washes it down with another swallow of whiskey. She pretends not to feel the hurt behind the anger. “How am I supposed to forgive that, Waverly? He missed his immortality so much he decided to trade his soul for it. He didn’t think of me. He didn’t think of _Alice_.”  
  
“Maybe he did.” Waverly’s voice is soft, quiet, as though she’s afraid speaking the words too loudly will push Wynonna away. “Maybe he did it for the two of you.” When Wynonna shoots a glare at her, she shrugs one shoulder. “I’m not saying it was smart or the right thing to do but maybe it was about more than just getting his immortality back. He does love you, Wynonna.”  
  
_I wish you hadn’t given up on me._  
  
_I would never. Not on you. Not on our daughter. I would never._  
  
Doc’s words from when Bulshar had them trapped play in her mind, and Wynonna closes her eyes. She still doesn’t know how much of it was real, how much what she heard was Doc and how much was Bulshar toying with her, but that felt like Doc. She can remember how soft the words were, how sincere, and a lump begins to form in her throat that she has to swallow back down. It’s too much on top of everything else right now, it just makes her itchy, uncomfortable, so she pushes it away. She shakes her head and takes another long pull from the bottle before holding it out to her sister. Waverly takes it and tips it back, swallowing a good mouthful in true Earp fashion, and Wynonna watches her. She only has the capacity to think about one person the universe seems intent on taking from her at the moment, and she’d much rather focus on the sister she’s going to save even if it kills her than the man who already made the choice to become a monster.  
  
“Truth or dare, baby girl.”  
  
Waverly hums as she lowers the bottle and hands it back to her. “Truth.” Wynonna grins, a question instantly coming to mind this time. She lifts the bottle, smirking behind it, and notices the way her sister raises an eyebrow, clearly curious.  
  
“What are you gonna name you and Ginger Snap’s first kid?”  
  
To Wynonna’s absolute delight, a light shade of pink quickly flushes across her sister’s cheeks. She looks down at her lap, apparently unable to meet Wynonna’s eyes all of a sudden and fidgets with her hands in her lap.  
  
“What makes you think I’ve thought about that? Maybe Nicole and I don’t want children.”  
  
Wynonna scoffs as she raises the bottle and peers over it at her sister. “Please. Like either of you don’t want kids. I bet you started thinking about names before you even went on your second date.”  
  
Waverly’s blush deepens and she knows she’s right. Raising an eyebrow at her sister, Wynonna takes another drink even as she grins.  
  
“Well it’s not something we’ve really talked about yet,” Waverly mutters, picking distractedly at the cuffs of her sweater now. “It’s too early in our relationship, and so much is always going on, but.” She’s biting her lip and Wynonna waits, her expression not changing as she gives her sister a look. After a few seconds Waverly just sighs and then the corners of her mouth turn up and she gives a little shrug. “Okay, so yeah, maybe I’ve thought about it.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“I don’t know if Nicole’s thought about it at all or if she has any ideas for names, but if we ever have a girl I was kind of thinking maybe we’d name her Willow.” Her smile grows a little as she looks over at her sister. “Willa probably would have hated it, me naming a daughter after her, but.” Again she shrugs.  
  
Wynonna pretends not to notice her throat burning again and nudges the younger Earp’s shoulder. “Not so sure how Haught would feel about that, considering Willa kinda shot her and all, but I like it.”  
  
“True,” Waverly says and then thinks about it for a second before shrugging. “Well, if she doesn’t like it maybe it can be a middle name.”  
  
“Mm,” Wynonna agrees. “What about if it’s a boy, what W name will you choose then? Wally? William?” One side of her mouth pulls up into a smirk. “If it’s Winston just know he’s gonna get teased. Probably by me. Or Wilber. Nothing where Willy can be the nickname because you know. Penises.” She makes a face and Waverly nearly laughs, even as she rolls her eyes.  
  
“No actually, I wasn’t thinking about anything with a W.” Waverly looks down at her hands where they’re folded in her lap and then back at Wynonna. “Actually, I was thinking of moving down one letter in the alphabet. I was thinking if we have a boy we could name him Xavier.” She fidgets with her hands nervously as her eyes drop back to them, and then her voice gets a little quieter. “I think Dolls would have liked that. Don’t you?”  
  
This time Wynonna can’t ignore the burn in her throat or the fact that tears are pricking at the corners of her eyes, but she can blink them away. The thought of their fallen comrade squeezes at her heart like it always does but this time it’s more overwhelming than painful. She reaches out and takes one of Waverly’s hands and squeezes. “Yeah. Yeah, I think he woulda liked that a lot. That’s a good choice.”  
  
Waverly’s lips purse together but her smile grows and she looks away and then back again. “Good. I think Nicole will like it too.” And then, “Truth or dare?”  
  
Wynonna gives her a look, raising an eyebrow. “Lay your question on me, squirt.”  
  
“Okay, I’m not that short, alright?” Waverly reminds her, rolling her eyes. “I’m just like… I don’t know, fun size!”  
  
Her sister barely even tries to hold back her laugh, the sound coming from the back of her throat. “Pssh, yeah, okay, that’s just what shorties say to make themselves feel less tiny.”  
  
Waverly’s elbow digs into her side and Wynonna lets out a little yelp, but her sister can’t quite hold back a smile so Wynonna just continues to grin too.  
  
“You ever thought that you’re just freakishly tall, huh?” Waverly asks, and Wynonna cocks an eyebrow.  
  
“Dude, if I’m freakishly tall then what is your girlfriend? Cause she’s like, even taller than me. Except when I’m wearing my favorite boots, then we’re pretty much even.” Waverly doesn’t have an answer for that and just opens her mouth to close it again, and Wynonna smirks and takes another drink. “Gonna tell Raggedy Ann you think she’s a freak. See how that goes for ya.” That makes a spark flash across Waverly’s face and she’s about to comment when Wynonna cuts her off. “If you say anything about being a freak in bed I swear I’ll steal every blanket in the house and make you sleep in the cold tonight.”  
  
Waverly shakes her head, a small smile still tugging at her lips. “Not sure now much sleeping we’ll be doing tonight, but I’ll keep it in anyway.”  
  
Wynonna ignores the way her stomach drops at the reminder of why they’re sitting in their living room and trying to ignore the rest of the world for a few hours, but hands over the whiskey when Waverly plucks it from her fingers. The younger Earp takes a swallow and lets out a quick sigh after she’s done, and looks down at the bottle. “You ever wonder what it would have been like, if there wasn’t any curse?” She holds up the liquor. “Like, would Daddy have been, you know, like he was? What would it have been like to grow up with Willa, Mama? Each other?”  
  
The question hits Wynonna in her chest, nearly knocking the breath from her lungs, and for a second just hangs in the air. The fire crackles as they both think about the younger Earp’s questions, and then Wynonna slowly nods.  
  
“Yeah. I’ve wondered about it.” The words come out more quietly than she necessarily meant them to, and she stares straight ahead, not really looking at anything in particular. She’s still holding Waverly’s hand and gives it a squeeze, but doesn’t look over even as she feels her sister’s eyes turn to her. “How could I not? I thought about it a lot, those first few months after Daddy was gone. Like, a lot a lot.” Her free hand taps against her knee and she turns to stare into the fire. As she continues speaking, her voice goes quiet again, as though she’s lost in memory.  
  
“I remember at St. Victoria’s, when the asshole doctors there were trying to convince me I was crazy, I wondered what it would be like. If there was no curse, maybe Daddy wouldn’t have always been so paranoid. Maybe he wouldn’ta drank so much and been so… Ward. Maybe that woulda kept Mama from going batshit mental and she wouldn’t’ve been taken away. The revenants wouldn’t’ve shown up and taken Willa and I wouldnt’ve shot Daddy, and we all could have grown up normal. Or you know. Normal-ish. We all could have grown up together, all three of us. That woulda been…” She lets out a low snort. “Helluva lot better than what we all had to go through instead.”  
  
Beside her Waverly nods slowly but then shrugs.  
  
“I thought about it a lot too,” she admits, her voice just as quiet as her sister’s. “Not just growing up, recently too. I’ve wondered… I don’t know if it would have been the three of us.” Beside her Wynonna frowns and finally turns to look at her, but now Waverly isn’t meeting her eyes. She bites her lip, purposely looks away, and again lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “I mean, I’m not an Earp, remember? Without the curse, do think Mama would’ve met Angel Julian and then had me? Maybe it would’ve just been you and Willa.”  
  
Now Wynonna shifts a little, her body turning towards the younger Earp as her brow furrows. Waverly’s trying to keep a straight face as though the idea isn’t bothering her, but Wynonna can see the worry hiding at the back of her eyes. She gives her sister’s hand a squeeze and then pulls Waverly closer, and she leans into it when her sister’s head rests on her shoulder.  
  
“You were always meant to exist, baby girl,” she tells her, her voice low but serious. “I think out of everything, that’s the one thing the universe got right in all of this. You and me, definitely, but mostly you. With or without this bullshit curse, whether you’re half angel or half asshole like me, you’re still the best thing this sad sack of an earth has ever managed to make.” She presses her lips to the top of her sister’s head as she feels her resolve settle like molten steel over her bones. “And it doesn’t matter what universe we’re in, whether there’s a curse or not, my job, my one job, will always be to keep you safe. That’s all that’s every mattered, Waverly. It’s all that ever will matter. I’ll fuck up the shit of anyone who thinks otherwise.”  
  
Waverly turns further into her sister’s side and squeezes her hand tighter, closing her eyes. She can’t figure out if the pressure in her chest stems from how much they love each other or if it stems from the agony of the knowledge of what needs to happen next if they want to save the world. Probably it’s both, and she grits her jaw as she presses harder against her sister’s side.  
  
She knows Wynonna is serious; her sister cares about her more than anything, even her own life. It’s honestly what makes this situation they’re in so impossible. Waverly has been scared ever since Kevin revealed the truth about how they can stop Bulshar, and it isn’t just because her future is looking a little rocky. The thought that she may have to sacrifice herself to save the world terrifies her, enough that she starts trembling just at the thought of entering the Garden and becoming all statuesque, but it’s not what scares her the most. She knows how important she is to Wynonna, knows what she means to her, so she’s even more afraid of what Wynonna might do if she does sacrifice herself.  
  
Waverly knows she’s been her sister’s one main motivator all her life, her biggest reason she never stopped fighting, so if that reason is gone she doesn’t want to think about what Wynonna might do. It’s those thoughts that have been making the pressure in her chest so intense, so she shoves them back and forces herself to give her sister a small smile as she desperately tries to ignore them.  
  
“The curse really hasn’t been all bad, though,” she tries, not breaking her steely optimism while Wynonna just gives her a withering look. “Yeah, we both went through some pretty awful things, but some good things have happened too. I met Nicole and we fell in love.”  
  
“You don’t know you two wouldn’t have met if there wasn’t a curse. Also, gross.”  
  
The younger Earp shrugs, even as she continues to lean against her sister. “True, but I saw what life was like without you, Wynonna. Remember? Nicole and I weren’t together in that universe, I was about to marry Perry. So without things going exactly the way they did, who knows what would have happened?”  
  
Wynonna lets out a snort. “Yeah, you and Perry, that’s a weird one. Better than Champ though, so good job there. I’d give ya at least a B plus for that upgrade.”  
  
Waverly’s lips twitch. “Yeah well, Nicole’s an A plus. An A plus plus.”  
  
Wynonna’s eyes widen and she yanks just an inch or two away as she gives her sister a look. “Holy shit, you can get one of those?” When Waverly raises her brow, she rolls her eyes. “Yeah, of course you would know something like that. Miss Valedictorian, head cheerleader, _and_ homecoming queen.”  
  
“Don’t forget nicest person in Purgatory,” Waverly adds, grinning as Wynonna rolls her eyes yet again. She bumps her sister’s shoulder and lets go of her hand, holding it up as she begins to tick off names as she continues, “And it’s not just Nicole. Without the curse what are the chances we would have met Jeremy? Or Doc or Dolls? It’s what brought us all together, after all.”  
  
Wynonna feels a twinge in her chest at the names. Jeremy’s their little science nerd, entirely too annoying at times, but she can’t say he hasn’t grown on her. Doc and Dolls… she has loved both of them, and they both broke her heart. Tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes as she thinks about them, and she grabs the whiskey bottle from where it’s lying in Waverly’s lap. A good long haul off the bottle helps to fight the tears back.  
  
Waverly must see the emotion she’s fighting down, because she lightly bumps Wynonna’s elbow with her own. “Sure, this curse took away most of our family, but it kind of gave us another one too. Maybe it doesn’t make it right but it’s… it’s something. Don’t you think?”  
  
“It’s something,” Wynonna agrees softly, but then her lips press into a hard line. “But it’s not enough. Bulshar built this stupid curse to take everything from us. It’s not going to stop - _he’s_ not gonna stop - until there’s no one left to take.”  
  
The weight of those words hang in the air for a few drawn out seconds, and then Waverly says quietly, “Then we have to stop him. We can’t let him win. He can’t get into the Garden.”  
  
There’s a hidden meaning between her words and Wynonna feels each one like a strike to the chest and her grip on the bottle tightens. Kevin wants Waverly to sacrifice herself to save the world, claims it’s the only way they can win, but Wynonna just can’t do that.  
  
“I can’t-” Her voice breaks, and she has to stop, swallow, fight down the lump burning in her throat before she can continue. “I can’t lose you, Waverly. I just can’t. This thing, this fight, it’s taken just about everyone I’ve ever loved. Daddy. Willa. Dolls.” She has to swallow again, and a tear nearly escapes as she manages to get out, “Alice. Doc’s a vampire and Mama left. You’re all I have left, baby girl. So I need-” When her voice nearly breaks again she takes in a sharp breath, grits her teeth and closes her eyes. The next moment they’re open again and she’s turning to stare at her sister, big brown eyes she’s been helpless to for twenty-two years already staring back at her. “I need you to be safe. I need to not lose you. I’ll, I’ll figure something out, some way to beat Bulshar, but it can’t be through you sacrificing yourself. It just… it can’t be.”  
  
Waverly doesn’t move as her sister speaks, doesn’t even blink. Wynonna’s expression is entirely open in this frozen moment in time and she sees everything in it. She once said that nothing could ever break her sister, but in this moment she knows that one thing could and that knowledge stares back at her in dark blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. A hole opens up in Waverly’s gut and her heart drops through it but the deep and unforgiving ache in her chest doesn’t lessen. She can feel her own tears building because she doesn’t know if they can do this, if this is a fight they can win, but more than anything all she wants to do right now is comfort her sister. She turns and leans forward, just far enough to touch her forehead to Wynonna’s, and the sisters’ eyes close at the same time.  
  
“Okay, Wynonna,” she murmurs, “okay. We’ll figure something else out.”  
  
“Promise me.”  
  
Brown eyes open and blue are already staring at her, holding her gaze. Wynonna’s eyes are hard but only because beneath them Waverly can see her fear, and it’s enough to make Waverly grit her jaw. “Promise me you won’t go to the stairs, Waverly. Promise me.”  
  
The clock on the mantle ticks, a few seconds expanding into a lifetime as the sisters stare at each other, and then finally Waverly nods. “I promise, Wynonna.”  
  
It isn’t a promise she’s sure she will be able to keep, but she makes it anyway and tries to ignore the way her throat threatens to close up. Wynonna accepts it and the hard edges to her expression melt away. With them gone, Waverly thinks she just looks tired. Exhausted, even.  
  
“Okay,” Wynonna lets out in a breath, pulling back a little. She fiddles with the bottle still in her hand, as though just remembering she’s even holding it. She doesn’t lift it, doesn’t do anything but lightly tap it against her thigh. “We’ll find another way to stop him. We have to.”  
  
It sounds as though she’s trying to convince herself as much as her sister, so Waverly lets one corner of her mouth tug up just a little and holds out a hand in front of them. “Ride or die, right?”  
  
Wynonna looks at her sister and suddenly sees pink. She sees the little pink face beneath the tuft of light hair, and she’s six-years-old again. She remembers, remembers the very first moment she held her baby sister, the moment she met Waverly, and feels the same rush of purpose slam into her. She was born to do one thing and one thing only, and it’s staring her back in the face.  
  
“Ride.” She reaches out and grasps Waverly’s hand, holding onto it as though everything will come crumbling down around her the second she lets go. “Just ride this time, baby girl. That’s what we’re gonna do.”


	20. Chapter 20

Waverly breaks her promise.  
  
Bulshar loses - the curse is broken - but the Earp sisters don’t win.  
  
Wynonna’s throat is raw from screaming as she breaks down at the foot of the stairs. All she can do is watch as her sister is dragged away to a place she can’t follow. Somehow Doc can and does, and then he’s disappearing too, and Wynonna is left alone.  
  
The doors to the Garden close, and all she’s left with is a sudden flash of bright light and the wind groaning through the trees. It’s eerily quiet after the chaos of her fight with Bulshar and Waverly’s screams, but for a long time Wynonna can’t make herself leave. She’s frozen with the truth of the situation.  
  
Waverly is gone. 

***

She hasn’t slept for at least forty-eight hours. In fact, Wynonna honestly can’t say how long it has been since she managed to get any sleep at all; days, at the very least. Long enough that she should be passed out by now, shouldn’t be able to move or even keep her eyes open, but she is already on the move again. Every part of her aches and her arms and legs feel almost too heavy to lift, but she doesn’t stay still for long. Slowing down now means giving up on Waverly, and there’s nothing on earth or anywhere else that can make her do that. So she fights through the exhaustion, lets her adrenaline beat it back, and doesn’t give up.  
  
The homestead is empty by the time she gets back. It shouldn’t be, but it is. Nicole, Jeremy, and Robin should be there, their drugged asses should still be knocked out from the shots Wynonna gave them, but when she gets back the house is empty and the name of a new asshole is carved into the wall. _Valdez_. As if she has time for some new dickwad. She wants to scream when she sees it, wants to let the frustration and terror she can feel boiling in her intestines out in a rage, but the exhaustion keeps it all bottled in. She only has the energy to focus on what she needs to do, and right now what she needs to do is find out if there’s anyone else left in Purgatory she can pull in as backup. With her first choice for backup now missing and yeah, probably kidnapped by a new asshole, she doesn’t stay at the homestead long and soon finds herself trudging back into town. Wynonna flashes a half-hearted middle-finger to the sky as she leaves her family’s land, hoping that the very dead Bulshar gets the message, wherever dead snakes like him end up.  
  
He deserves it; his beekeepers shot out the engine of her truck with their big-ass gun, and now her sore feet are only getting sorer with every step. But hey, at least she’s not in heels this time. That’s a nice change.  
  
As she goes, Wynonna feels Doc’s pistols thumping lightly against her thighs. His belt hangs around her waist now, and she rubs a thumb over the worn leather of one holster. The guns are his most prized possessions, and Wynonna isn’t entirely sure why he left them with her rather than take them with him into the Garden, but she can’t help but feel a little more grounded with their weight at her hips. Sure, it’s cool and pretty badass that Peacemaker is now a sword that can spout out blue flames, but she’s probably a better shot still than she is swordswoman. She’s already hidden the sword away, put it somewhere safe until she needs it again. She refuses to take the chance of losing it, not when she might need it to get her sister back.  
  
At least she managed to stab the shit out of the snake with it before hiding the sword away. It was honestly a little therapeutic until Bulshit went all viper on her and struck out with that bite. She winces just thinking about it, reaching up and tracing a finger over the two puncture marks on her neck. They throb some even now beneath the pads of her fingers, and she wonders if they’ll ever go away or if they’ll become a scar and a reminder of what she lost today.  
  
The thought makes her stomach suddenly turn and she stumbles, nearly falling before she catches herself. Standing up straight again, Wynonna glares down the road ahead of her, both of her hands dropping back down to her sides and curling into fists. Waverly and Doc may be lost, and maybe Nicole, Jeremy, and Robin are all missing now too, but she’ll find them. She has to find them.  
  
She keeps walking.  
  
As she walks Wynonna is also thinking, an exhausted mind desperately trying to sort out everything that has happened over the last two days so she can come up with a plan. Hell, just trying to sort out the last few hours is giving her a headache, but Wynonna just grits her jaw and forces her tired mind to keep working, hoping that something will be able to give her a clue as to what she should do next. Her exhaustion makes it difficult to focus on anything for more than a few seconds, but three thoughts keep repeating like a loop in her mind:  


  1. Charlie was Julian, which means she slept with her sister’s father and the love of her mother’s life, and now he’s dead. If she ever actually sees her mother again, they’re in for a really awkward conversation. Definitely not a happy thought at all, but not really one she can do anything about.  
  

  2. Bulshar broke the Earp curse. The revenants are gone; Wynonna isn’t the heir anymore, and her daughter will never have to be. Alice is well and truly free. Just a little bit of the pressure that has been living in her chest for almost the past year releases.  
  

  3. Something inside the Garden got Waverly. It dragged her in and somehow Doc followed. Every part of that one is hard for Wynonna to wrap her mind around, but all it really means is that she failed. She failed to protect her baby sister, and now she can’t rest until she finds a way to bring her back. Wynonna refuses to fail her again.



By the time she makes it to town, every thought other than Waverly has been pushed out of her mind. She can’t think about Charlie or Mama or even Alice, refuses to waste her time on Bulshar anymore. The only one who matters now is her baby sister, but to find her Wynonna is going to need some help, so she turns her attention on finding some. Part of her is desperately hoping to find Nicole somewhere - if there’s anyone who will be as dedicated to bringing the youngest Earp back as Wynonna, it’s Waverly’s girlfriend - but she isn’t at the police station like Wynonna has silently been hoping. No one is, and she swears under her breath, cursing the mysterious Valdez for making an already shitty day just shittier. The station is as empty as the streets, and the stillness of the ghost town causes a shiver to run down Wynonna’s spine. Her eyes never stop moving as she traipses down the street, constantly on the lookout for the slightest traces of movement, but there’s no one left but her.

She almost passes by Shorty’s without stopping, but something makes her rethink it. Now is no time for a drink - which honestly, that alone indicates just how serious of a situation she’s in - but Shorty’s is like Purgatory’s staple, and certainly one of the rendezvous points for her team, so she figures it can’t hurt. Maybe Nicole and the others got away before stupid Valdez showed up and are looking for her and Waverly. If so, Shorty’s would certainly be one of the few places they’d go to look for her. She turns on her heel and then heads towards the bar, silently hoping she’ll find at least one of them inside waiting for her.

Shorty’s looks like it always does, except it is empty. There are mugs with various levels of beer on many of the tables, beer bottles beside a couple, and even some glasses set out holding some of the harder liquor. A number of chairs are on the floor or leaning haphazardly against the walls, balancing only on two legs. It looks exactly like what Wynonna would expect a bar in a ghost town to look like, and the utter stillness just makes a shiver trickle down her spine. This place was never meant to be this empty.

A tiny, almost imperceptible clinking breaks the silence as she takes another step inside, and Wynonna’s posture stiffens. Her focus zooms in on the bar where a shotgun lays amongst beer bottles and glasses, and suddenly her fingers begin tingling. Doc’s pistols at once feel even heavier at her sides and her hands hover over them as the clinking gets a little louder. One thing she knows for sure is that she isn’t as alone as she thought just a second ago, but that knowledge doesn’t bring with it any kind of relief. Rather than wait for whoever it is to come to her, she silently slips one of the guns from its holster and keeps walking towards the noise; after the day she’s had, she sure as hell isn’t taking any chances. Wynonna’s already raising the gun and taking aim when the clinking stops and a figure stands up behind the bar.  
  
It really shouldn’t be a relief to see Randy Nedley standing there in what she’s sure was a discounted Hawaiian shirt, but boy does the relief slam into her like a hot and heavy one-night stand. He’s holding a toothpick with an olive at its end, the final addition to the martini he’s clearly made for himself, but he doesn’t drop it in the drink beside him. Seeing her, his posture relaxes, shoulders loosening.  
  
“Oh,” he just says, tone perfectly even as though the fact they live in a ghost town now is just another day in Purgatory. “Well, I guess I’m cancelling my trip to Punta Cana.”  
  
Wynonna doesn’t bother to try to hide her smile as the corners of her mouth tug up. Of course he’s still here, and if she’s being honest with herself, she’s more than just a little happy to see him. She rehostlers her gun.  
  
“Retirement would bore you. Trust me.”  
  
The olive is dropped into his martini and Nedley grabs the glass before making his way around the bar. “Oh I do.”  
  
As he makes his way around Wynonna steps closer to the bar, leaning against it. She wants to sit but knows if she does it’ll only be that much harder to stand back up again. As he rounds the corner of the bar, she tells him, “I went back to the homestead.”  
  
“They’re all gone,” Nedley finishes for her.  
  
She knows the answer before the words are even out of her mouth, but still Wynonna hears herself asking, “And in town?”  
  
Nedley’s elbow lands on the bar, his side pressing up against it. He’s quiet for just a moment before responding. “Chrissy... Everybody. It’s just you and me, kid.” Finally he lifts his glass up and takes a sip from his drink.  
  
It’s the answer she expected, but it doesn’t make her feel any better. The knowledge that they’re the only two left has the hairs at the back of her neck standing up but it doesn’t change what she needs to do.  
  
“Something in the Garden was trying to come through and then it…” She has to pause, the memories of Waverly’s tears and her own screams too powerful for a second, but then she continues, “...it was coming for them.” Wynonna shakes her head. “Thought it was supposed to be Paradise.”  
  
She speaks quietly, as though talking too loudly might disturb the nothing and no one around them.  
  
Nedley’s voice is more gruff than quiet as he responds, and she wonders if he’s having as hard of a time pushing his emotions down as she’s having. “Are they even still alive in there?”  
  
It’s a question Wynonna has exactly one answer for, because anything else is simply unacceptable.  
  
“Hell yes.”  
  
Nedley stares at her for a second, maybe trying to decipher how much she believes her own words, and then says more firmly, “Just tell me what we do.”  
  
Now only one corner of Wynonna’s mouth tugs up, her signature smirk a little less snarky and a little more determined than usual. Without a word she grabs the shotgun from the bar in front of her, holds it up, and caulks it. “Let’s get them back.”  
  
There’s a second shotgun laying on the bar beside Nedley, and he grabs it, caulks it, and then props it against his hip. “Oh fuck yeah.”  
  
The response causes Wynonna’s smirk to twitch. Who would have thought she’d be happy to have Randy Nedley beside her as they face what very well may be the end of the world? Not her, that’s for damn sure, but holy hell she sure is.  
  
“Alright, time to turn Paradise into my bitch,” she jokes and he just raises an eyebrow, not bothering to respond. He tosses back the rest of his martini, sets the glass on the counter, and then digs into one of his pockets and pulls out a set of keys that Wynonna instantly reaches out for. “I’m driving.”  
  
He jerks his hand back before she can get them and just gives her a look. “Nobody drives Randy Nedley’s truck ‘cept Randy Nedley. ‘Sides, you look like you could pass out any second.”  
  
Wynonna won’t admit that he’s probably right so instead rolls her eyes. “Fine, you drive then,” she mumbles, and then jerks her head back towards the door. “We should go back to the station, see if the nerds left us any clues on what this might be.”  
  
Nedley nods even as he tells her, “Gonna need to make a pit-stop first.” He steps around her and is already heading towards the door and Wynonna makes a face as she watches him before easily catching up to him.  
  
“Nedley, if this match between us is gonna work, I do not need to know about your pit-stops. I will swipe left, got it?” She then jerks a thumb back behind him. “And you do know they’ve got bathrooms here, right? Doc’s old school, I know, but I think he appreciates modern-day plumbing just as much as the rest of us.”  
  
“Need to stop at Nicole’s,” he just says as he pushes the door open and steps out onto the street, and Wynonna’s eyes widen and then her brow furrows as she follows him.  
  
“You think Haught made it?” If she really wanted to she could hide the hope she knows leaks into her tone, but she doesn’t bother with it. She’s worried about the redhead and dork duo.  
  
“Naw, if Nicole were around she’d be out ‘n about, probably looking for you and Waverly,” Nedley replies, leading the way to his truck parked up the street. Her sister’s name makes Wynonna’s heart constrict tightly in her chest but she doesn’t say anything about it. He hasn’t asked about the younger Earp yet and she’s not sure what she’ll be able to get out when he finally does, but the way he looks over at her from the corner of his eyes makes Wynonna wonder if he knows already, or at least has some idea. They reach the truck and he wrenches the driver’s door open, adding before he slides insides, “No, I’d say Nicole is as gone as the rest of ‘em.”  
  
Wynonna climbs in the passenger’s side and pulls the door shut behind her. Her legs and feet scream at her as she finally takes her weight off them, and it’s all she can do not to let out a sigh of relief as she falls back in the seat. The seat presses against fresh bruises from any number of the fights she’s been in today, but she ignores all of them and then gives him a look. “So why are we going to her place?” A thought crosses her mind and she narrows her eyes. “Does she have a secret arsenal stashed away? I swear to God, if she’s had a flamethrower this whole time and never told me I will never forgive her _and_ I'll kick her ass when we find her.”  
  
Nedley doesn’t even look over at her, apparently unphased by the threat to his prodigy. “Gotta go get that cat a hers.” He turns the truck on and AC/DC comes blaring out of the speakers. Wynonna is all at once impressed and confused.  
  
“The cat? That’s why we’re going to Tator Haught’s house?” Her tone tells him exactly what she thinks of that and he just gives her a shrug.  
  
“Can’t leave Calamity Jane if no one’s around to take care of her. That cat’s tough, but she’ll need someone to feed her.”  
  
Wynonna opens her mouth to respond but nothing comes out. Nedley pulls out onto the street and she ends up just sinking back into her seat, rubbing at her forehead. She could argue about how they really don’t have time to take care of a stupid cat but she knows it would just be a waste of breath. _Highway to Hell_ begins playing and Nedley cranks the music up even louder, and somehow it sparks something to life inside her. She’s still too exhausted to think clearly, but a fresh wave of energy washes over her and she feels a resolution settle deep into the pit of her stomach. Her head tips back and her hands - one on her lap, the other up resting on the door beside her - curl up into fists.  
  
_Hang in there, baby girl_ , she thinks, her expression setting as she stares out the windshield. _The cavalry’s coming, and I’m not gonna stop until I bring you back. I promise._  
  
The music blares in the truck as Purgatory’s retired sheriff and the town’s most infamous screw-up make their way down the road, on a mission now to save their worlds.  
  
Nothing and no one is going to stop Wynonna from keeping her promise.


End file.
